The Wedding Dream

I dreamt last night that it was our wedding day. The wedding of my dreams, and it was taking place in a great Irish castle. I was happier than I had ever been in my whole life, so happy that I was crying. The wedding was to be an Irish Catholic wedding, but a high priestess was also there to add a bit of the Old Religion to the ceremony. Everyone was to wear Renaissance clothing, and my gown was a beautiful white silk and lace, with a lavendar velvet cape. Everything was beautiful and perfect. And everyone I loved was there. No one in your family was there, however.

And you were late. We were all too happy to notice for a while, and joy was of loud abundance. But after a while the castle was quiet, and nearly all of the guests, and me as well, were waiting patiently for your arrival. The gloriously beautiful summer day was now late evening, and I was losing hope. But I could not tear myself from the castle window anticipating your presence. The quiet was so still that I heard a phone ringing at the end of a long hallway of the castle. I slowly walked over and picked up the receiver. Your mother was on the phone. "He will not be coming. He was never going to", she said.

I hung up the phone quietly, and an overwhelming feeling of intense sadness welled up inside me. Tears streamed down my face and I slowly crouched to the floor as my dreams shattered.

Copyright © Carrie Batcheller, 2024, All rights reserved.