Soap Story

For me, blogging is like eating Pringles. Once I start it's difficult to stop but sometimes the thought of starting makes me feel a little nauseous. Blogging doesn't actually make me feel sick, but it does sometimes make my stomach churn a little because I am never sure if I am going to write about things I might regret writing about. Like this for example. Love. Or rather, the dangers of the Love Bubble.

I am sure many of you know the feeling of being crazily in love (and for those of you who have yet to experience it, it does feel pretty good), when you and the chosen one are in total agreement that no-one else could love each other quite as much as you do. Nor could anyone else's love be as special/magical/intuitive/deep/ethereal/passionate/sublime/supernatural/destined/eternal as yours (delete as applicable).

And that enormous, crazy Love Bubble keeps you floating along merrily for quite some time. And even as time passes and merrily turns to comfortably, the Love Bubble memories sustain you. After all. Your love is special/magical/intuitive/deep/ethereal/passionate/sublime/supernatural/destined/eternal as yours (delete as applicable).

It is very hard to burst that Love Bubble, with it's shiny, sparkly and impenetrable skin. It takes something very unpleasant to burst it, to pop it in an instant and watch it disappear in a flash of disintegrating rainbow drops. I am sure your imagination can conjure up some thoroughly unpleasant scenario that just might do the trick, and I am equally sure that it can't happen to you and your chosen one because your love is special ... et cetera ... et cetera.

But now for the bad news. That enormous Love Bubble can shrink. Deflate. And so slowly, so imperceptibly you may not notice. Days, months and years can go by, and little by unnoticed little the Love Bubble lets out a sigh here and there, getting smaller and weaker every time you or your chosen one forget to breathe love into it. It might be forgetting a kind word, it might be forgetting to show you care, it just might be forgetting for a brief moment that the chosen one is the one you fell in love with. Each moment of forgetfulness or carelessness is one less breath of love for your bubble.

One day you wake up. One day the chosen one wakes up. And with horror it dawns that your Love Bubble is no longer what you remembered. You stare in disbelief at the sorry little soap sud at your feet and wonder who could do such a thing. Aha! It must be the chosen one's fault! They have been careless, they have been forgetful ... damn them, let battle commence.

So filled with bitterness, hurt and anger, the recriminations and pained silences begin. But wait for a moment, look a little harder. There is still a sorry little soap sud at your feet. A tiny little bubble, little more than a memory, devastated from its former glory and weakened through neglect. But still there. Waiting for someone to breathe love again.

This week, I will be mainly breathing.


Yours in hope and fear, AJ x