The track arrives dressed in bright synthpop clothing — layered vocals stacked like light through a prism, a pulse that never quite settles into predictability. But the architecture matters less than what it's built to hold: the specific, dizzying sensation of watching attraction tip over into something with weight and permanence. Aurealis captures that hinge moment, the one between infatuation and commitment, where doubt and certainty occupy the same breath. It's a difficult needle to thread lyrically — too much confidence and you lose the vulnerability that makes the emotion recognisable; too much hesitation and the song curdles into anxiety rather than romance. Aurealis keeps both plates spinning without dropping either.

What's most winning about the record is its refusal of cynicism. A weather metaphor threads through the song's emotional centre — the idea that circumstance, atmosphere, even the literal sky, becomes irrelevant in the presence of the right person. It's a well-worn image, the kind that could sink into cliché in less careful hands, but Aurealis sells it through sheer conviction, through the warmth baked into the vocal delivery itself. This is a songwriter who has clearly decided that the well-worn phrase, sung with total belief, beats the clever one sung with distance.

Context helps here too. Aurealis has spent recent releases mining bleaker emotional terrain, and "How I Feel" reads as a genuine pivot — not a retreat into safety, but a widening of range. Artists who only know how to write pain often stumble badly when they try joy; it comes out saccharine, unconvincing, a performance of happiness rather than the real thing. Aurealis avoids that trap entirely. The optimism here feels earned rather than manufactured, hard-won rather than default.

That risk, in fact, is the song's real engine — the sense that time is finite and chances don't repeat themselves, that hesitation has a cost. It's what elevates "How I Feel" above generic love-song territory: underneath the gloss and the synths sits something close to urgency.

Aurealis has made the case that warmth can be just as compelling a subject as darkness — maybe more so, when it's rendered with this much craft and this little apology.