If the song “Fine Line” by Harry Styles and “i was all over her” by Salvia Palth had a child, their sweeping yet simplistic tones would combine to create Hulu’s Normal People.

Through these songs, my rolling tears watered the bursting spring bulbs, and through Normal People, I got a glimpse into an unpretentious, honest sort of love. 

This immaculate series follows Marianne (Daisy Edgar-Jones) and Connell (Paul Mescal), two teens from a small town in Ireland who become involved in an undisclosed relationship. This plot is expanded upon as they flower into adulthood with their hearts still wading through pools of introspection as they grow apart and back together again. 

A sense of silent vivacity popped off my screen as I delved into Normal People for the first time. Starting with the first three episodes, dull greens and bright blues permeated through the air, the slight scent of fresh linens and dewy grass accompanying them. There were also the moments of neon lights and exuberant passion, but it was primarily intricacy and tranquility that carried the first 60 minutes. 

On episode four, I received my introduction to the color palette that would travel with me through the rest of the series: brown-stone apartments, stuffy university libraries, and the average dark academia Pinterest board with a splash of sage and sky. Through a wall of my better judgment draped in a veil of pigmentation, I entered into the section of Normal People that would subsequently incite a two-week mental breakdown. 

I fell in love with Marianne and Connell almost as much as I fell in love with their relationship. Through their compounded personalities, I saw pieces of myself that I often forget exist. 

For example, Connell—who in the show attends Trinity College to earn his English degree—somehow furthered my dying wish to move to Europe and read and write in hole-in-the-wall cafes. Furthermore, Marianne’s axing of toxicity out of her life made me reexamine the power I give to the thoughts that make me feel horrible. Plus, she made me desire bangs even though I definitely do not have the head shape for them.

This show’s end brought an emotion similar to what I can only imagine getting dumped feels like. I missed Normal People, and I kept going back for more even though I knew nothing had changed since the last time I watched it. The same events would lead to the same ending, and I would still end up sobbing on my bedroom floor as Fine Line wallowed up and over the spindle of my record player.

As the tears continued pouring down, I quickly realized that if crying were a show, that show would be Normal People. Through the blue-green air of this series, a feeling of juxtaposition wavered; almost like weeping, it felt depressing yet relieving at the same time. Yet, most of all, it was genuine. 

Due to this back and forth—this feeling of complete loss yet reward— that Normal People has become one of my favorite shows. Harry Styles summed up my love for this series perfectly when he said, “You’ve got my devotion, but man, I can hate you sometimes.”