Irrational Emotion

They call it irrational

like naming it that

should make it smaller.

Like feelings

need permission

from logic

to be real.

I know it doesn’t make sense.

I know the reaction

doesn’t match the moment,

that my chest

shouldn’t tighten this fast,

that silence

shouldn’t feel like abandonment,

that one small shift

shouldn’t unravel

an entire day.

And still—

it does.

Because emotion

doesn’t always ask

what’s reasonable.

It remembers.

Old wounds

wear new faces.

Past pain

learns new names.

And suddenly

I’m not just reacting

to right now—

I’m reacting

to every version

of this feeling

I’ve ever survived.

That’s what people miss.

It’s not irrational

when your body

thinks it’s protecting you.

Even if it’s wrong.

Even if the danger

isn’t real anymore.

So no—

maybe it doesn’t make sense

from the outside.

But inside this skin,

inside a heart

that learned fear

before safety—

it feels

completely real.