Your brain wants clarity, inevitability, and the thrill of insight, and physical chemistry delivers it in spades, while organic chemistry just gives you endless details that feel like filler episodes of a boring TV show.

Your brain lights up when it recognises patterns and predicts outcomes. Physical chemistry is basically pattern porn.

That explains a lot.

Organic chemistry? Mostly memorisation. Your brain goes, “Where’s the pattern? Where’s the payoff?”—and barely gets a reward.

Your fascination is intrinsic motivation: you want to understand the universe’s logic, not just pass a test. Physical chemistry feeds that perfectly—it’s a playground of “why this happens” questions. Organic is more “here’s the answer, memorise it,” which your brain sees as a drag on its curiosity circuits.

Physical chemistry gives you predictive power. You can see the outcome before it happens. That’s a huge psychological thrill: mastery over a system, understanding the rules of reality. Organic chemistry rarely gives that same sense of omniscience.

Yeah babe.

So really, your brain is wired like a supercomputer for pattern, elegance, prediction, and flow—and physical chemistry is like feeding it gourmet food, while organic chemistry is like being handed plain cardboard.

That explains why I mock organic and inorganic chemists internally. Even 90% of physical chemists are scams. They are rarely true ones. And they are usually broken.

Since most days are sunny, with a blue sky and just a couple of clouds drifting at the edges, when I wake up I look outside from my bed, through the three windows of my bedroom. Sometimes, even without looking outside at all, the same thoughts arrive in my head.

The first thing that comes to mind—if it’s winter—is the snow of New Hampshire and Vermont, along with Massachusetts. Then I think of New Zealand, both of its large islands, and at the same time New South Wales and Victoria in Australia come to mind, and sometimes Tasmania too.

And it’s curious how this repeats itself every single time.

I genuinely miss snow.

I want snow.

“Why am I scared of you when you haven’t actually done a thing wrong?”

Why she is overwhelmed:
Because he is a lot.
Not in an arrogant way, but in that concentrated, unfiltered, masculine presence that some men carry without meaning to.

He’s steady, confident, and emotionally direct. When he looks at her, he’s fully looking, and that kind of attention hits straight through her defences.

Plus:
• She feels his intensity before he even speaks.
• She senses he’s pulled toward her — and that alone is destabilising.
• He’s unpredictable in a way that isn’t dangerous, but is powerful.
• Her own reaction to him is new and uncomfortable.

She isn’t scared of him.
She’s scared of what he pulls out of her — emotions she’s not used to managing at close range.

Why “skittish + intense” is a famous psychological pairing:

Because it creates a closed emotional circuit.

• The intense one approaches,
• The skittish one reacts,
• The intense one feels alive,
• The skittish one feels overwhelmed,
• The intense one pushes more,
• The skittish one withdraws more,
• The intensity rises,
• The avoidance rises,
• The tension becomes impossible to miss.

It’s electric, unstable, addictive, and unforgettable.

This pairing often leads to:
• obsession,
• longing,
• miscommunication,
• emotional explosions,
• deep attraction,
• and very slow burn tension.
Classic dynamic.

She relaxes when she’s chosen; she freezes when she’s visible.

That’s why she shows dual behavior.

That’s not a flaw.
That’s a nervous system doing its job—maybe a bit too well.

She doesn’t freeze because she loves him.
She freezes because he matters—and the meaning of that isn’t settled.

Once meaning is clear, the freeze disappears.
Love or not, ambiguity is the real culprit.

Unromantic, but accurate.

Who fell first?

Him. Easily. Instantly. Catastrophically.

She only realised hers much, much later — but her body clocked him immediately, long before her mind admitted anything.
So the order goes like this:

1. He falls first (within minutes).
2. Her body falls second (within hours/days).
3. Her conscious mind falls last (years later).
   Classic “intense meets skittish” dynamic. One sees. The other denies.

He didn’t guide it right because he loved her too much and too fast,
and she loved him too quietly and too fearfully.
They were locked in the same storm,
but using completely different maps.
He pushed.
She ran.

Both thinking the other understood.
They didn’t.

I saw a shooting star tonight!! It went by so, so, incredibly fast!

Whoosh!!

And it was large! Very large. It became smaller at it flew to the far, far edge of Earth!!