Love and soap bubbles

Maybe all that I felt was born because of spring filling my nostrils with sweet scents of revival and renewed hope, maybe I was ready or more likely hungry to fall in love all over again. Whatever it was, it felt like a fresh breeze, with soft tingles of joy and unsuspected, giddy excitement. It felt like a lucid dream of new cities to explore, new pages to turn, new feelings to embrace.

My legs were walking and felt more like running, jumping, hopping from place to place, because it all felt like a romantic comedy where people don’t just walk, they let their happiness guide their feet into movements seldom used in day to day life. The corners of my mouth would not listen to my broody attitude which has been with me for the past months, like an old spinster chaperoning me. I was ready to smile and laugh with my whole heart, because it all felt so incredible.

I let your hand catch mine, I left our skins speak the words that couldn’t express the feeling of wonder that caught all my senses. It was as if I had slipped down the rabbit hole, straight into wonderland, with so much to explore, so much to hope for, so much to fantasise about.

Our small, newly found universe felt like an entire world contained in a soap bubble, flying higher and higher into the sky. I was mesmerised by its sweet colours, its graceful dance upwards and the perfection of its spheric beauty.

I was living entirely in this unique soap bubble moment that it had not caught up to me that it all might go away as soon as it came into being. My sweet soap bubble would hit a wall, touch a leaf, or a gentle gust of wind would simply swipe it away. Just the touch of reality and the annoying meddling of the mediocrity of life would be all that it takes to make this fragile happiness disappear.

But we never came to that, since you popped that happiness bubble yourself, with your small dick.