Last Night

I got married.
In my dreams, that is. 

A part of me feels the need to put it down somewhere.
Luckily, I have a blog where I can post whatever I damn well please. 

This fellow and I were standing in this open field where one lone oak tree stood, proud and immovable.

I swear it was Autumn because there were red and yellow leaves littering the grass,  but my clothing wasn't indicative to the season.

 

I wore the simplest white sundress.

It reminded me of those baby doll night gowns girls used to wear.

There was a breeze in the late afternoon that caressed my legs and played with the fabric.

My hair was down, which is unusual for me, and it ruffled around my face.

To be honest, it looked lovely and if I could get my hair to look like that I would wear it down all the time.

The man I was marrying reached over and brushed it off my face. 

For a moment, there was eye contact and I felt myself blushing. And I thought, how nice, to have those feelings for the man I was marrying.

 Then his hand found mine and he gave it the gentlest squeeze as if to say, "I'm here."

A wind kicked up and the leaves of the oak tree rustled.
We both turned our faces towards the heavens.
I remember the leaves well because they reminded me of Pink Lady apples.
And I always want to buy that type of apple, but every time I do I am disappointed with it. 

The thought made me laugh in my dream.

And there was an incredible sense of calm  to the whole thing.
Neither of us were afraid or anxious.

It just was. 

A woman married us in a simple ceremony.
A few other people were there, but they didn't matter, because we were there for each other, not the onlookers. 

And then there was a kiss. 

A kiss so soft I questioned whether it even happened.

Then we walked off with no direction or destination. 

And this dream was as close to a fairytale as I've ever thought up. 

So vivid and rich. 

And oddly real.