A bubble is a small globule of gas in a thin liquid envelope. So it says on dictionary.com but nevermind about that. For something that can only bring about a sense of delight in both children and adults alike, its meaning is but forlorn. Just as it lacks permanence. The inability of such a fragile matter to stay constant. Enduring. Bubbles like pinky promises are mere marvels of childhood innocence in this merciless world. Pinky promises. Yes, you hold on to them for all your life is worth. A promise to stay together forever or a promise to keep one's secret. A sign of exceptional loyalty in a world that has been formulated to destroy fairy tales. But yet as naive as it sounds I still believe in the magic of bubbles and pinky promises. These things have never failed to remind me that I was once young. That I once trusted with all my heart that I can and could love someone. Just only one person for the rest of my life. I'm still living that promise. I'm glad I made that pinky promise. As for bubbles, the minute it goes "POP" you'll just have to tell yourself that's the way life is. Every cycle that goes. Endings are never absent. But you know what? I believe its the moment you blew that first bubble and see how perfect it is that counts. Just that moment. You embrace it. And you don't mind even if it doesn't last. You saw it. You felt it. Commit it to your memory and remember. It wasn't just a bubble.
It was a moment.
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