Dearest Rachel –
Believe it or not, I found myself dealing with a couple of dreams last night, both of which I thought you might as well hear about. To be sure, the first was a little more than an ironic bit of punishment visited upon some quack con man, but the whole concept behind it sparks an interesting line of reasoning. This one felt a little bit more like I had an actual part in the story, such as it was, although I’m not so sure I should’ve been proud of my behavior. Indeed, my dream self, when it came down to things, dominated the scene in a most unseemly manner.
Perhaps you’ve heard tell about people who want to be the center of attention being described thusly; they want to be ‘the bride at every wedding, and the corpse at every funeral.’ That seems to have been the case with this scene, and I’m not particularly proud of it. The weird thing is, I wasn’t even part of this wedding party that showed up at the restaurant where I and others (my family? Friends? I honestly don’t know) were enjoying a special meal of unknown provenance. So perhaps I could be excused for dealing with them as if they were the interlopers, because they were, to a certain extent.
In fact, for a bride and groom, they seemed curiously casual about it. Although they were still more or less dressed in their wedding outfits, it was clear that they had let their hair down a bit – quite literally, in the bride’s case, particularly. Not just her hair, in fact, but her bodice as well (which I might note, seemed more peach than white – who says you can’t see colors in your dreams?); it had been lowered enough that, if she wasn’t falling out of it, I imagined that she was – and this being a dream, my imagination makes it real in the first place, and therefore, she might as well have been bare-breasted. Not that anyone seemed to object to it, for whatever reason (dream logic, again – and besides, a bride is supposed to be the center of attention. How better to guarantee that than by showing off the assets that got her where she is?).
Anyway, they were rather loud and raucous, which, assuming they had essentially just come from their reception (and therefore, most likely, had been drinking rather heavily), shouldn’t be surprising. Although, it begs the question as to why they would show up at another restaurant after having been at some banquet hall so recently that they hadn’t even bothered to divest themselves of their wedding kit. But let’s set all that aside for the sake of the dream; after all, those aren’t the sort of questions you would be asking me as I was telling you about this. Those are, however, the sort of things I would ask you as you related certain dreams to me, and that’s why I bring them up. But that leads down the rabbit hole so far away from the actual action of the dream that, were I to go into further details about it, I’d lose the original plot entirely. So let’s back up, and head down the original path.
Although, to be honest, there wasn’t so much action to be had. I simply went up to them at their table, in mild defiance of those at mine suggesting that I not do so, and offered my congratulations on their nuptials. For all their boisterousness, they did not seem to be bothered by my sudden appearance – in fact, they accepted my best wishes quite graciously, for being so far into their cups.
But I just could not leave well enough alone. I could have stopped with one word of advice: “Remember,” and left it at that. But I didn’t. And while I can’t remember everything that I said, I know that I gave them way too much context as to where my advice was coming from, and far too much detail about the things they should remember about each other, and the days they would spend together (and apart).
I recall telling them to remember every ‘curve’ and ‘inch’ of each other (and they were in good enough spirits to each smirk as I said those words, indicating the bride and groom, respectively). Remember what they like and don’t like, so you can give them more of the one and less of the other. And you can stop smirking, you two – that goes for every aspect of life, not just the one you’re thinking about.
Remember the bad days, and the words that were said during them. Not to hold them against each other, but rather to know what to avoid going forward. Those days, hopefully, will pass, and the sooner you learn how to extricate yourself from them, the easier it will be to escape them in the future, or even avoid them altogether in some cases. Not all, mind you – there will be some hard times that will be beyond your control. You’ll need to recognize that, and the fact that the situation may not be within your partner’s control, either – so don’t get on their case if they can’t solve things immediately.
Remember the good days. Write them down, if you have to. Anytime you have a good thought; about the day, about your partner, or whatever made the moment special. Treasure them. Refer to them in the bad times, as a way to buoy your spirits. Leave them in places where you can find them and look at them, and if your partner finds them, so much the better. You’ll be able to improve both your day and theirs.
Neither type of day is infinite; at one point, you will run out of them. It’s then that you’ll truly need to remember what it was like; the good, the bad, the crazy, the mundane. You’ll long for those times and places to return, but all you’ll have are those memories. Make sure you have a lot of them.
And I get it, I don’t have the right to talk; I don’t have enough of them, and never will now. So learn from my mistakes, rather than making them yourselves. Do your best to make as many good memories as possible, and keep the bad ones to a minimum – because one day, they will be all you have.
I think it’s at this point my party grabbed me away from where the newlyweds were sitting, now thoroughly sobered up from my speech to them. The dream itself more or less dissipated at this point, as those around me were giving me an earful about being such a wet blanket.
And here I’ve been wondering why I don’t get invited to more weddings. Guess I know why now.
Anyway, that’s been my morning, honey. Keep an eye on me, and wish me luck; I’m going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 