where there's smoke

Being retardedly in love is a lot like being in a smokey bar. It may feel good at the time, but it can be very bad for you. You don't notice how detrimental it can be, until the next day when you wake up and smell the stench of cigarettes and aftermath in your clothes and hair. Being out and away from the bar helps you realize what a potent, noxious fog you were under; how you were willingly susceptible to it all, how much you loved it. Only then, after you are free from the bar's intoxicating, smokey clutches, do you realize how much it stinks.