The Gelatinous Love Bubble

It's what love poems are made of.

Photo by Zdeněk Macháček on Unsplash

I’ve sat inside a love bubble. I’ve swam in it. Floated in it. Drowned out the outside noise and locked eyes and energies with one man, as if we are the only two humans on Earth. You probably have too. The Love Bubble, also known as unexplainable chemistry and physical attraction, pulls us all in. You sit in it. You swim in it. Float in it. And feel pure, vibrating bliss.

But bliss can be fleeting, particularly when your love bubble is made up of soapy water that only forms a thin film. Soapy Love Bubbles are easy to pop from the inside out. Impossible to recreate once destroyed. They’re what romance novels are made of.

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My ex-fiancé and I drowned ourselves in this type of love bubble at the start of our relationship. And, oh, did our love bubble feel like a Harlequin book, ripe with angst, confusion, “choose me” vibes, instant physical attraction, and void of any real emotional and spiritual depth. We had little in common. Our communication styles and our needs and values clashed. We had opposing views on gender roles, finances, work, family, and chasing our passions. I still think back and wonder, how did we ever fall love, get engaged, and make a conscious decision to get pregnant and have Evan?

I can now see the flimsiness and unsustainability of our love bubble. Mostly because hindsight is 20/20, but also because I’m in a new bubble with Eric. Like previous connections, it began soapy. In a matter of 5 weeks, it’s transformed into a “gelatinous” (his word, not mine) bubble - and there isn’t a ripped bodice or damsel in distress in sight.

Gelatinous love bubbles are what love poems are made of. When Anais Nin writes, “I felt the tear and the pain, but the warmth melted everything, the warmth of his voice in my ear saying, ‘Do you want me as I want you?’”, she writes of the gelatinous love bubble.

When Rumi writes, ““I want to see you. Know your voice. Recognize you when you
first come ’round the corner. Sense your scent when I come into a room you’ve just left. Know the lift of your heel, the glide of your foot. Become familiar with the way you purse your lips then let them part, just the slightest bit, when I lean in to your space and kiss you. I want to know the joy of how you whisper ‘more,’” he writes of the gelatinous love bubble.

It’s a space void of confusion, angst and “choose me” vibes. Filled with a genuine connection, deep and open conversations, an intimate familiarity and ease, and oh, so much chemistry. We sit in our Gelatinous Love Bubble. We swim in it and float in it with an inner knowing that the only thing that can crush it is fear.