emotionally bonding to my pen

I ordered myself a nice journal from Leuchtturm1917 a while back, and I got their Drehgriffel No.1 and No.2 along with it. Now, between them I quickly decided I preferred the fine tip ballpoint pen over the pencil, and the No.1 earned its place in my pen loop on my journal pouch.

Couple months back, I had the intrusive thought to get a tactical pen, as I have another bolt-action pen I had custom made(it doesn't fit in the pen loop, unfortunately) and I considered having the value of a "fidgetable" pen along with my journal. Ultimately I decided not to get one, as it turns out tactical bolt-action pens are quite expensive.

Then, just a few weeks ago, I picked up my No.1 and felt a twinge of joy. Didn't think much of it, and kept journaling.

Then it happened again. And again.

And now, against all odds, for some reason holding my No.1 in my hand gives me immediate serotonin and few things bring me more joy these days than scribbling in my journal with my beloved No.1. I don't know if this is just me discovering the joy of journaling, or if I've truly adopted this pen, but all I know is that this pen holds a special place in my heart now and will never be replaced.

Silly? Maybe. But then again, all things are silly in their own way.