The water mocked me with silence.
The liner sagged, folded in on itself, a soft blue reminder of my mistakes. Like my motivation, it collapsed quietly, without drama, but fully, undeniably.
I whispered apologies to the skimmer, which gurgled back, unimpressed. I blamed the sun, the wind, the hose. But really, I blamed myself.
The pH was off.
So was I.
I remember the day I shocked the water and walked away too soon. Like a bad love letter, I left it unfinished. The chlorine fizzled out, just as my effort did.
The filter groaned under my neglect. I could hear it, a grinding little prayer I ignored.
At night, I dreamt of algae curling in corners, creeping back, reminding me what happens when you stop caring.
The guilt became heavy.
I crouched by the ladder and confessed my sins to the pool walls.
I had overfed it chemicals one week and starved it the next. I vacuumed only when the shame bubbled high enough to move me. I let the water rise too far, then too low, never quite right.
Then came redemption.
With a brush in hand, I attacked every inch of the liner like I was erasing regrets. I tested the water, this time really looking at the numbers, understanding what they meant instead of pretending.
I spoke to the pump softly as I cleaned the basket, promising to listen better.
And clarity arrived quietly.
Not perfection. Not instant. But enough to see that maintenance is not about punishment. It is about paying attention. Loving what you worked for.
What I Learned:
- Test your water and actually believe the results
- Shock thoroughly but do not abandon the follow-up
- Clean the filter and listen when it begs for help
- Brush like you are apologizing for ignoring it
- Care for your pool not out of guilt but out of love
The liner still has its folds, just like I still have mine. But now I stand at the edge and see a partnership instead of a battle.
The water does not mock me anymore.
It waits.
Patient. Ready.
Like it always was.
