...please get me to the church on time! No Dialogue Contest, March 2021
|He said he loved me to forever and all the way back again; that the way I smiled my special smile meant exclusively for him made his heart race; that to imagine a single day of Life without me anymore was unimaginable, intolerable. And more... much, much moreꟷas ardent young lovers have averred since time immemorial.
BUT then, he'd go and strike terror in my heart by telling me I'd better not be fashionably 'late', as many brides have found it amusing to be, as though trifling with their beloved's heart at the very last moment; as if setting one more test for the quaking groom to pass... to wait, or not to wait! He firmly believed that was the question these 'visions in white' seemed to be asking with such risqué behaviour. He warned I would find him at the nearest pub. No way would he wait!
How I laughed at the thought, assuring him nothing was further from the truth. Nothingꟷbut absolutely nothing would find me 'missing in action' for any part of that wondrous day, the pinnacle of a young girl's dreams of that time in history; to be a bride, a wife, a partner in life; his helpmate, the mother of his children, the one and only to grow old withꟷwhy, it read like a poem.
Slowly, however, the laughing refusal of anticipation of the very idea… well, grew! And blossomed into nightmares; not every night, just many!
There was the one where I stopped in the moment of alighting from the gleaming black wedding limo to pose for that popular wedding pic, and as my feet peeped from beneath my snowy white gown, I saw to my horror, I'd put on incredibly shiny black patent-leather shoes instead of my special, incredibly expensive white satin ones. Even more horror awaited when I realised the photographer had captured my anguish and shock and this was made into a front-page headline, 'Bride Can't Get it Right, even on Wedding Day'. (Wondrous how famous you can get in dreams!)
In another nocturnal horror show, I slipped on the steps going up to the majestic front entry doors of the church, fell backwards, dragging my poor father with me to tumble and knock down the rest of the bridal party, domino fashion (at least I landed on top!) All that was left of our entourage was my small flower-girl niece, standing on the top step, eyes wide as saucers. Hers were only matched by those of the bystanders and well-wishers in a semi-circle around our conglomeration of satin and lace.
But the most memorable nightmare by far was the one where I actually was late, and my erstwhile groom was absolutely NOT there. Never doubting he would be true to his word, I high-tailed off in my wedding limo, going through one Front Bar after another, holding my white satin dress off the floor with one hand, and my long lace train wrapped several times around the other arm. I remember raising an amazing amount of attention and wolf whistles, but no sign of the errant beloved. I do believe I always woke myself up before the terrible confrontation could come to fruition.
The lesson would appear to be —be careful of too much anticipation,you just may get what you dream of, or have nightmares about.