Let’s just say for shit’s and giggles that I have a bubble.
The inhabitants of my bubble have changed over the years.
Because of this reason I have started to use stick-ups, because not everyone is as hygienic as they appear. It can get somewhat humid inside my bubble, so I try to keep odors to a minimum. Especially lately, because it has been pushing maximum capacity.
As my crookedly drawn stick figure people illustrate, I currently have 7 people hanging out in there. This is the most that I have ever had in my entire life.
My mother has always been a part of my bubble, so at least it has never been empty. So is my husband.
How sad it would be to have an empty bubble.
Perhaps you ask what makes a person eligible to gain access to my special bubble?
If you are a part of it, then you know. It really isn’t all that difficult, but it requires some time and effort. I suppose you have to like me for who I am, faults and all. I do get hurt easily and I am a very emotional person, so some would say I have the ability to be a drama queen.
Sometimes I’m sure hard to handle now.
The people in my bubble know how I am doing on an almost daily basis. They check in. How am I today? I ask the same of them. The give a fuck factor is through the roof. These are the touchstones of my day, to make me feel tethered to the ground, so I do not fly away.
One is so special, it is done telepathically.
I hope that these people stay in my bubble for a long time, but I know that sometimes circumstances change things. This is a part of life.
All I know is that at this moment, my bubble is awesome.