HAPPILY EVER AFTER . . .

I have an extremely vivid and well-rounded dream life. In the span of the last twenty-nine and a half years, I have probably dreamt everything there is to dream. I have dreamt in black-and-white, Technicolor, muted shades, and through the lenses of various color filters. I have spoken Russian, French, Spanish, Korean and English in my dreams. I have been alive and dead and killed and buried alive and resurrected. I have dreamt my own birth (albeit in another country) and watched my own funeral (while sitting on top of a playground slide, no less). I have fought the recurring nightmare and continued warm-and-fuzzy dreams from the night before. One time, I enjoyed a storyline so much, I dreamt a series of episodes in the same vein six nights in a row. I have heard God speak to me in my dreams, and I have seen Him help me run from Satan in my dreams, once even lifting me up and putting me on the back of a pigeon -- A PIGEON! -- to rescue me.

But until Friday night, I have never dreamt that I got married.

Friday night, I had the most wonderful, warm, curiously happy dream, where I married a man I didn't even know I loved until the vows had been spoken and the deal sealed with a kiss. In the moment of the kiss -- a very short, dry-lipped, no-body-parts-touching-except-for-the-lips kiss -- I knew that my life was complete and that I was exactly where I was supposed to be, with the person with whom I was supposed to be.

The strange thing is ... the wedding itself was less than ideal. When I imagine now what I would like for my wedding later, all sorts of plans come to mind. The music, the colors, the food, the guests, the service ... all of it is planned in bits and pieces in my head. I just need a cooperative groom, to tell the truth. But Friday night's dream wedding was nothing like that which I would have asked for. The service was over before it began, and only immediate family and very very close friends were in attendance. There was no reception, for my husband had to return to his work immediately, and had no time for a three-hour party, or even a post-ceremony meal. In fact, I think the few guests went out to eat by themselves! We changed out of our wedding finery into casual work clothes, and I embarked on my life with my new husband, walking shyly behind him as he returned to his work, being introduced by him to his coworkers and friends. I knew I had but one or two days to accustom myself to his life before I had to start helping him, but my heart of hearts was so, so, so happy at this prospect. And this less-than-ideal wedding fulfilled me more than anything else in my life thus far. I felt not a touch of disappointment or dissatisfaction; heck, I wasn't even hungry.

The other strange thing is ... I felt like my husband and I barely knew each other before the wedding, at least not in the "you're my best friend and I know everything about you and vice versa" way that seems ideal before one gets married. I don't think the marriage was arranged, for I felt immense affection -- akin to a lifelong crush, perhaps? -- and a good deal of familiarity with him, and he with me, as if we were great friends. Not a touch of reluctance anywhere. But nothing in my dream self -- or in my real self, upon waking -- prepared me for the overwhelming, all-consuming love I felt for him after the wedding. This feeling flooded me, to stay permanently I know, the moment we changed into our regular clothes, and I started to watch him work, giving his kind and generous self to everyone around him, not even showing a spot of weariness after our busy morning, gently taking my hand to lead me around with him, placing a hand on the small of my back even as he was talking business with others, catching my eye every now and then to shoot me a quick grin. Knowing, in my dream, that I had given up so much to be with this man, I felt nothing but hope and soul-infusing happiness and contentment, and more love than I had ever felt for any human being before, in my dreams or in real life.

And the best part is, the feeling lasted allllllll weekend. Dream wedding, indeed ...

The only hitch to this dream was keeping this overwhelming love to myself. I knew that I had never told my husband that I loved him, and I knew I had never heard it from his lips to my ears. Perhaps we never expected to say it to each other, to feel it enough to say it; we just knew we could share a life together, so we decided to do so. Thus, the only frustrating and torturous part of the day was walking around with him, knowing that I could honestly and truly and whole-heartedly express my firm, deep love to him ... and not being able to do so until the end of the long day, when his work was done, and we might be able to spend some time alone together. That, and wondering if he did or ever would feel the same towards me ...