Friday, May 7, 2010

My Dream Man

I've dreamed about my wedding since I was a little girl. No, really. I have had real, vivid dreams at night. Clear as the crystal goblets we toasted with, in each dream I felt as though I was actually there.

The circumstances varied each time, from cutting our cake to posing with our family on the damp steps of the Salt Lake Temple. I could see every detail -- the swirls of white frosting, the layers of satin, the sea of loving faces. I could feel my new husband lace his arm around my waist, could see the black fibers of his tuxedo jacket as I snuggled close. In each dream, I anxiously looked up give him a smile. But no matter how hard I tried, I could never see his face. Just a blank spot. I could smell, see, feel every particular of my wedding day except the most important one: the who.

These dreams continued into adulthood. When they came, I even tried occasionally to fill that blank with the face of whomever I was dating at the time -- never fit. Eventually, after romantic disappointments and career success, I gave up trying to figure out who my dream (or real life) groom might be. I figured the dreams were some sort of subconscious fantasy I might potentially never see in real life. Shrug.

Then, one night, I dreamed about our first dance. I heard the music and the clinking of forks and the hum of soft, friendly conversation. I saw our guests circle around the dance floor; the little girls rushed to sit in the front for the best view. My satin high heels tip-tapped on the wood until I met my groom in the middle of the room. He held me so close I could smell his cologne and see the orchid on his lapel. Why bother to look up and see his face? I was in bliss. Still, I was so close. One last time, I peeked up and saw... a familiar face.

I recognized those soft dimples, rosy cheeks and warm green eyes. Those broad shoulders and that thick, perfect brown hair. He smiled and I cried. He filled in the blank. He was that boy I just met at church. I couldn't even remember his name.

When I woke up, I played it off as a fluke, a mind trick. After all, I hardly knew the guy. Eventually, I forgot altogether.

A year and half later, I was planning my own real life wedding. Chicken or Beef? Salmon, I said. Roses or Ranunculus? Orchids, I said. Dancing? Yes, I said. But people in Utah don't dance at weddings, I was told. But we will, I countered. I couldn't even place why I fought so hard to have dancing at my wedding.

Then, this moment:

Don't ever tell me dreams don't come true.

Happy 5th Anniversary to that boy I met at church. You have filled in all the blanks. I love you.

4 comments:

JenSwen said...

What a sweet and touching story! You have such a gift for writing. I'm glad you found your dream man. :)

Katie said...

This could be your most gorgeous bit of writing to date. Loved it. Loved it, loved it.

And Happy Anniversary!

megannicole said...

Ok ya chills! That was the most beautiful wedding. I still try to fit into my gorgeous dress! Happy Anniversary! I hope my dream comes true one day just like yours did!

Janie said...

Wow - what a great, great story and you've told it so beautifully. Happy Anniversary to you and Michael!