My Midsummer Night's Dream

As black as the most starless sky, the darkest of nights; yet as iridescent as still water beneath a sky amass with stars and the brightest, fullest moon. My hair is this mass of wavy black shimmer, pulled into a tidy bun on the nape of my neck and my fringe; a neat mess on my forehead. My eyes glow, lights and love reflected in the green. My lips are full, blood red.

Sliding my hands down the sides of my adorned body - the material is the colour of my hair, silky under my fingertips – I grab the roses as red as my lips and step forward and instantly feel the immense weight of eyes on every inch of me. People will talk, I knew they would, and I‘ve never felt so beautiful. As my eyes wonder excitedly, instantly to the front of the room, I see he thinks so too.

Ooh’s and ah’s and flashes; I walk. My eyes rimmed black graze over the faces I love – the girls; natural and box dye blondes, brunettes, straightened curls and curled thin hair already falling flat, the boys; a combination of slickly gelled and bed-head - and the face I love the most. And there my eyes stay; they cannot be anywhere else now.

I can feel as my perfect pout begins to transform into a wide smile, of the goofy variety, I don’t care. I’m walking toward a life with open arms as I never thought I would. My skin feels warm underneath, as if my blood has been boiled and then poured into my veins.

The two girls who stand up for me look like the brides in their pretty white frocks; an innocent aura surrounds them as they smile at me, getting closer and closer. Having them stand there being one of very few things we’ve done traditionally on this day; him and I, original in every way.

Now, as I near the end of the aisle and reach the future, the slow motion I seem to have been travelling in speeds up to a preferred pace; not unlike my habit of always walking ahead: I just want to be next to him. This person I could never live through losing, he holds my life and I his.

Marriage – always an interesting, albeit confusing concept to me – to promise somebody that you will love them till the day you cease breathing. How could you? Hard for me to wrap my mind around the vows when all over the world, everyday, they’re being broken; until I knew him.

I am certain.

And this dream, this day, was written so long ago, somewhere. In the stars?