It’s irrational when you’re all of a sudden a morning person. When you wake up so easily with no need for a cup of coffee. When it feels like you’ve already had two cups. So full of life and energy that it’s disgusting. This sappy, fuzzy warmth makes me want to puke.
It’s irrational when you’re listening to ridiculous amounts of sentimental music.
It’s irrational when happiness is an issue of proximity — of being near or around her. Nay, it’s delusional.
It’s irrational when you’re writing a piece analyzing beauty and unrequited love as you persuade yourself to forget her.
It’s irrational when someone’s scent can unleash so much dopamine and serotonin in your brain. Human beings are not cocaine after all. How is it that pupils are dilated, heart rate unusually elevated, appetite is suppressed, and, not so surprisingly, there is a strong biological urge to procreate. And It’s irrational when absence makes you long for more. It’s addiction. It’s a dangerous mental condition that destroys the lives of thousands. It’s irrational.
Before, I would have savored it. I would have exploited it for whatever it’s worth. It makes the brightness of the sun tolerable. It’s stimulating. It’s colorful. It’s musical. It leaves this metallic taste in my mouth with a hint of tangerine. It’s exciting. And yet it’s all too familiar. And yes, the lightness it brings — it’s unbearable.