It was bound to happen sooner or later—and this, my friends, is why I should probably stop embarking upon pseudo-scientific “experiments.” Experiments, you see, require procedures, and hypotheses, and control groups and those nerdy little lab coats that no amount of accessorizing can render sexy.
Above all, experiments are supposed to be conducted according to the scientific method and even though I can’t remember what exactly the scientific method is, I’m pretty sure it requires the exercise of reason.
You know: rational behavior.
The very opposite of emotion.
The antithesis of love.
The very thing that’s eluded me since the beginning of this “experiment” back in August—
But suddenly, I’m feeling calm. Rational, even. And no, I’m not going to tell you the contents of Date #7’s letter—only that it arrived in the morning post, that it contained two hand-written pages and that I’ve already read it three times.