I just woke up from the worst wedding nightmare I’ve had so far.
We were totally unprepared. Everything that isn’t done now (in real life) wasn’t done in my wedding dream, and then some. I hadn’t picked music so something random played. My dad didn’t walk me down the aisle, I just saw that it was starting and had to get up there. Michael was wearing jeans and a button-down shirt. I was wearing a wedding dress, but it was the wrong one. It was drab. I hadn’t gotten my hair done. In fact, it looked like I hadn’t washed my hair in three days – it hung limp and gross. No makeup. No church decorations.
Jon (our friend and officiant) wasn’t into it at all. During the ceremony while we were standing up there, he kept saying “I’m so tired. I’m just so tired.” I realized I never got around to picking Bible verses, but hoped Jon had planned it without me. He didn’t. Instead he sang “Light Up the Sky,” which is a cool Christian song they’re playing constantly on Joy FM right now. But he sang it really half-heartedly, I guess since he was so tired.
I kept trying to hold Michael’s hand. I figured, well, we’re here now. We might as well make the best of it whether we’re ready or not. But I couldn’t find his hand, even though he was standing right next to me.
The ceremony ended. I don’t know how anybody could tell it was the end because there was really no ceremony to begin with. Michael turned and walked casually down the aisle by himself. He left me standing at the altar and joined a crowd of people who were letting themselves out. Someone said to him, “Hey, guess what? You’re married now.” To which he replied, “Meh. I guess so.”
I made it about halfway down the aisle by myself and then burst out crying. My mom was there hugging me. She was being sympathetic and trying to console me. Then all the sudden she would change and act like it wasn’t that bad and I should stop being a brat.
“We forgot the flowers,” I said. “Why wouldn’t they call us?”
“Oh, the flowers,” she said.
I had been sobbing and making a huge scene in the church, then suddenly we were in the church’s tiny bathroom.
“We forgot to pick music or order bulletins or get my hair done. I never bought Michael a ring. We just forgot. We just forgot to do all those things. How could we forget?”
“Well, there’s been a lot going on lately,” my mom said, like it was understandable that we neglected to plan my wedding. We had just gotten back from the kayaking trip that my mom and I are taking this weekend in real life. That would explain why my hair was so gross. “That’s how life always is. You get busy. Like this year, Thanksgiving is right around Christmastime. Things overlap.” Sure…that makes sense. Not.
I walked out of the bathroom, helplessly trying to figure out what to do next. We had a reception hall booked but hadn’t picked out food or a band or DJ. Would the hall have food for us anyway? We didn’t pick out a cake. I started wondering if they would have a pre-made plain white cake that we could just use.
I saw Shannon in jeans and a t-shirt and realized none of my other bridesmaids and none of Michael’s groomsmen were even there. And I guess none of them ever ordered the dresses I picked out or tuxedos. About half of the guests remained seated in the pews. Apparently they wanted to be dismissed.
“What do we do with them?” I asked my mom. “Do we just leave them to figure it out?”
“Well, we need to apologize to them and explain that that was it.” She went up to the altar and procured a microphone and began apologizing for my horrid wedding.
“Tell them they can have a full refund,” I said.
“Well,” my grandma said in a lecturing voice, “you know, dear…”
“I know, ” I interrupted, half dejected and half sarcastic. “I’m married now and that’s all that matters.” But what an embarrassment. What a disaster. And what of this husband who doesn’t seem to care at all? I couldn’t even find him. I was feeling ashamed of myself. I thought I didn’t care about all of that materialistic stuff involved in the wedding. Why should I care? It’s just silliness. I felt so horrible. I started crying again, desperate, miserable, wracking sobs. I felt like a kid throwing a tantrum. I failed miserably at keeping up appearances.
I woke up. The dream was so vivid, it took me a few groggy minutes to think clearly and know that it wasn’t real. I don’t feel like I’m stressed about wedding planning. But I guess on some level I must be. I used to have wedding nightmares about my brother and sister-in-law’s wedding while I was helping plan it. I even had a few nightmares about it after they were successfully married. Something was always going wrong in those dreams and I was panicked and trying to figure out how to fix it. I had a couple nightmares about my wedding over the summer, but haven’t had one in a while. Those were not nearly as bad as this one. They always had to do with being unprepared, but they didn’t carry much emotion and it was more like watching from a distance than living it out.
Real wedding plans are coming along just fine. My overly pessimistic always anxious subconscious can just calm down. (On the upside, I slept all the way through the night, which hasn’t been the case most nights lately.)