Pink Punch Love

 

Oh, that effervescent space of connection. That thing that wraps you up in shades of soft. That makes you feel relaxed enough to believe.

Savouring the joy of having togetherness in your moments. Everything seems richer, sweeter, tastier with them near. So close you feel a tender merging into one. Endless summer of love, for them and their dreams. And your own! The world’s our oyster, a limitless playground, that’s simply awaiting.

But then comes the breaking of shells and walls. The ebb and flow of companionship is accompanied by sharp edges and hard hits, that invade the pretty pink picture, and shakes everything to the core.

The battlefield is in your home. The battlefield is in your mind, in your body.

 
The fluid existence of time and space flows one minute, then escapes into fires and flames the next.

This ephemeral, live dynamic that exists between two people, is both an exquisitely delicious and wretchedly painful dance. It requires all facets of oneself - the warrior, the lover, the wise and compassionate one - to rise to the occasion and take their place at the table of togetherness.

The looming choice is always there, tempting them. Either break the mould and grow and move forward smoothly, hand in hand. Or loosen the ties, releasing the other and see where it takes you. Perhaps returning to that solitary colour of love, that is still rich and rewarding, but that is not as vivacious, visceral and dynamic as Pink Punch Love.