I've always liked bubbles. I like the way they catch the light and send off rainbows. I wanted to make a dress of bubbles once.

It didn't work.

Fiyero hates bubbles. He says he's lived his whole life in one.

I've no idea what he means.

But…that gets me thinking. How would one live in a bubble, exactly, and what would it be like? It seems to me like everything would look different. Like how when you look at a bubble, things on the other side are blurry. It makes them prettier—just color, without the ugly details.

From the inside of a bubble, does the world look that way too? I'll have to ask Fiyero. But I think I'd like to live in one; some things in life would be better if they were less clear.

Like the way Fiyero looks at me. If that were less clear, maybe I would be able to mistake the blankness in his eyes for affection. Maybe it would even look like love.

Life is like a bubble, I think. The way people see you, and the way you see them, is never quite right. There's always something in between you, messing up the view. And so you chase after something that looks like what you want, and just when you get there the bubble pops, and you find out that it's not what you wanted after all. Or that he's not who you thought he was.

Or that you aren't who he thought you were—who he wishes you were.

So maybe I was living in a bubble too. And maybe I don't want to find a new one. Maybe I want the old one back.

But you know, the thing about bubbles is that they only float when no one bothers them. It doesn't matter how badly you want to keep one. You can't touch it. It'll pop.

Is that how life works? You go along, assuming everything is fine, but if you ever stop to think about it—pop.

I think I'd like to live in a rainbow instead.