The Time We Married

I had this dream that you and I got married. We'd been together for some time, exactly how long wasn't clear, though it didn't seem to matter. We were young. It seemed apparent what love was and it felt as though it reached all the way around us, wrapped us within it. It was an overcast day, we were walking along a road, it was snowing, but the snow was just cherry blossom petals falling. They were soft pink, almost white and cold and they tasted sweet as we opened our mouths and put our tongues out into the crisp air and caught them. We laughed and I ran my fingers carefully through your hair, brushing out the petals caught upon your head. We'd stopped a second and you were looking at me and I realised so as my hand reached the bottom of the shoulder lengths of your hair. Our eyes met in this moment and I took your hands in mine and began to turn with you, slowly at first, picking up speed until we were at arms lengths from each other, spinning faster and faster. As we slowed down, and took in our surroundings, we were no longer along the cherry blossom, snowing road. We were standing in an empty church that was a forest inside. It was a dome and the trees, thin and tall all around us curved inwards as they reached upwards and only a small circle at the top where they all couldn't reach each other let the sunlight in. The sunlight was soft and it was directly upon us as we stood in the middle of this very natural, comfortable feeling place. There were no pews in the church, just neatly cut-down, thick, many rings of age tree stump seats. There was no one else but you and I in the green, brown, amber, soft pastel mist but we could feel the eyes of an impossible-to-count number of people upon us. We could feel the eyes waiting. Watching and waiting. It seemed that there were voices, softly whispering and chattering, they brushed past our necks and ears like a breeze, which you couldn't tell where it was coming from. We were still holding each others hands. We looked at each other, not grinning, not smiling exactly, but just the corners of our mouths creeping out and up, arching in understanding, perhaps just less than half way to a closed lip smile. We kept looking at each other, locked eyes, unable to move them, not needing to, not wanting to see anything else. We kept our gaze for the time it would take for vows to be said but there was only silence. Just long, deep, concentrating silence. There were no rings brought forth and we knew that we would never wear any. I put my hand into my pocket and you traced my movements with your eyes as I felt around and pulled a watch from inside. The band was not solid, though it was bright and shining gold. It was formed of letters, words, joined together in lower case cursive all the way round. It was a perfect fit for your wrist without any adjustment. The band read, 'innocent when you dream'. It slid over your hand onto your wrist with complete ease and as it came to rest a small wisp of smoke appeared to rise up from where it met your skin. It was searing you, but you did not feel any pain. With your right hand you reached inside your jacket, to the inside breast pocket and you pulled out a watch also. It was identical on the face, and the band the same colour and font but it read different. It read, 'this is all I'll ever have'. As you slipped it on my wrist, just the same as upon yours, it seared my skin and I felt nothing, but thin wisps of smoke arose from around my wrist and I felt my wrist get noticebly heavier. So, with our watches on we both looked at the time and when we looked up from their faces to each others we were then upon a bed in a moonlit room, where the white light pushed through an open window. We were on our sides and naked except for the watches, on top of the sheets, our heads on pillows and music began to play. The music grew louder as we faced each other and I could see your lips moving and knew mine were doing so also, but there were no words coming out, there were no sounds to our voices. We were speaking calmly, at a conversational speed, not hastened or rushed and not exacerbated. As we mouthed words and the music got louder, the sound became more and more like that of a ticking clock. It was slowing and slowing and getting heavier and our mouths started to slow down until our lips were simply pursed. The rhythmic tick-tocking was all we could hear and we began to kiss, soft and gentle and we closed our eyes. Then, every sense seemed to disappear except for the sound of time, almost like a chisel being hit with a hammer into rock, and it continued growing louder and louder. I opened my eyes and I was awake and it was dawn and the clock beside my bed was making it's constant, normal, supposed to, sound. I looked to my right and under the covers swept my hand across to the other side and felt the entire absence of you from the bed. I turned my sleepy gaze from the plush pillow to straight ahead of the bed, where a full length mirror stood and reflected my now half upright position. And looking at myself, I realised that I wasn't frowning, I didn't have tears in my eyes, and I seemed to lack any completely descriptive expression but I could see clearly that my mouth was a curve of wistful, melancholy, slightly turned up at the corners, never smiling, closed lipped and tired.