In This, The Perfect Temporary

If you find perfect happiness, but it's temporary, what do you do with it? Do you hold tight and never let go? Well then, I suppose you turn into a bitter and nasty person who is trying to hold clouds. Do you pretend it never happened? No, because I think then you might settle for less than you deserve. Do you regret it, either because you think it'll never happen again or because you couldn't hold onto it? That can't possibly be right. So what then? What is to be done with temporary perfect happiness? They say that all joy is fleeting. Is it? Or do you accept that temporary perfection for what it is or was and then seek a different, perfect happiness? If joy is fleeting, should we not chase after it? And once we catch one joy, set it free and seek another?

When I shut my eyes and focus, it's like I can look beyond the inside of my eyelids. Through something. There are galaxies and all the Universe before my eyes. I can see the star dust of the Milky Way tracing its way across the emptiness. The dark is true dark, black and empty. Uncreated light. And the stars burn in the inbetween. Clustering together to make the most beautiful sky that could ever be imagined. I used to have nightmares, but I found my peace. And ever since, there have been stars in the darkness that comes with closed eyes.

I shut my eyes and sleep comes easily. There is some kind of haze. A fog I seem to be walking through when suddenly I'm on a cobblestone walkway across from the plaza and the sky is bluer still than any I've ever seen. The clouds float lazily about, heavy and perfectly white, perfectly outlined. As if they were drawn into the sky. The person holding my right hand is perfect in his 7 jeans and green vneck tee. I hug him tightly, feeling him against me. There is a heart beat and breath beneath his chest. I want to cry, but he lifts my head. Green eyes to rival my own. His smile is deeply etched into his face and my heart. He squeezes my hand and links my arm as we cross the street to the plaza. There are balloons of green and white, tied to each black bench and lamp post in the courtyard of the plaza. The plants are as green as crayon and the fountain sparkles in the way that water can only sparkle at high altitudes. Lillies, sunflowers, green hydrangeas. Flowers upon every balloon bouquet and petals littering the ground. The sun shines down on the scene, making it the perfect surreal.

Every face that I love and have ever loved greets me and I'm in white. The dress is short with green trim and the flowers tucked neatly into my hair make me feel a little tippy. I'm nervous and I cling to the arm of the man I need to be there. I can feel the muscles in his arm as he moves and I give quick thanks to God that I have him there with me. I'm having trouble putting one bare foot in front of the other when someone takes my left hand. He shakes dark auburn red hair out of his face and smiles at me. A black surfer tee with green letters and white board shorts. I touch the side of his face, I needed him here with me. I can feel the stubble on his chin and I close my eyes. He takes my other arm and we three continue towards the center of the plaza. There is a tear on my cheek. I've needed them here, walking beside me.

Someone has a llama and it's normal rainbow incan vest is replaced by an emerald one. There are a little blonde girl and young boy holding it still with their parents beside them. I laugh. All my favorite men are grinning broadly at me and the shortest gives me a thumbs up which makes me laugh again. My childhood friends in pretty summer dresses, light. We always knew I'd be the last. There are little kids running about in and out of the crowd, but no one seems to mind. Cousins, nieces, nephews, the triplets, children of my dearest friends. Each relative and friend beaming at me more than the next. My grandparents are laughing, even my grandpa Chris. My grandma Nona laughs as a child passes her. She smiles at me from the front of the crowd and says "You're so beautiful, baby." I kiss her on both cheeks and I take a deep breath of her. Soaking up every second I have. My Godparents are standing with my mother, holding her shoulders and her hand. They are all so proud of me. As I turn, there are faces I don't recognize but they are joyful and so I return their smiles. Everyone is so brightly dressed., radiant. I take a picture with my mind. I never want to forget this day.

At the edge of the fountain in the center of the plaza is someone I can't place. My brothers are standing just left. Z in slacks and a black tee shirt. A in light jeans and a black, white, and green plaid woven. He makes a face at me which makes me laugh again. The man beside them is not wearing a tux but is barefoot in dark jeans and a white woven with a vest. I never thought about it before, but I like that he's not wearing a tux. My daddy and Uncles are playing guitars and ukeleles, my cousin singing. Cinderella, Butterfly Kisses, Hawaiian music. There is a beautiful girl in a shade of green that matches her eyes to the right. She looks like a princess and smiles at me with a bunch of flowers gathered up in her hands. There's a tall dark man in black slacks and a white woven with a green scarf next to her. A kiss on each cheek and my hands are left free as one man goes to my right and the other to my left. I'm afraid to let them go, but their looks reassure my fast beating heart.

I smile at a man holding a beaten and overbook marked bible. I am holding the hands of the man in front of me and he mouths that he loves me. I have a strong feeling that I love him too and I blush. I search his face, trying to determine descriptive words for what he looks like, but I can't find any. I see him, but I can't seem to see anything physical. Just goodness, he is good. There are beautiful words being poured out and forming a new reality. Three beautiful little boys hand us each of the rings, they are intricate yet simple. And I am surprised at how fast my heart is racing. I can already see our life together. No permanent home, but hundreds of perfect temporaries all over the world as we are called to them. Heated arguments solved by long talks under cool stars. Lazy afternoons with books and a record player, fast days of museum hopping and old school photoshoots. Friends, family, and holidays. Broke, exhausted, and content. Awkward moments and laughter. Beautiful children, a dog, a sloth, and full passports.

We kiss and it's like the first time. There are no butterflies, but rather a settled feeling. As if it could go on forever, but I laugh through the kiss as the hollering begins. Flower petals are in the air and I close my eyes for a moment, just soaking up the joyful noise of it all. I smile at my grandmother and then at the two men who walked me to this fountain. Part of me wants to run to them, to hold them and feel them around me. But instead I squeeze the hand of the man without a tux. He is my future, they are my past. My wonderful, beautiful past. I know that I cannot keep them. They are only here in this, the perfect temporary.

I close my eyes and open them to dim fairylights and a predawn sky. I stretch beneath my heavy winter blankets and close my eyes to see them again, drifting from my dreams back to my memories. It isn't painful to watch them go. They will be with me again, as they are with me always. I reach out, waving farwell, wishing them a safe journey back to wherever they are. My eyes open and I lie looking at my ceiling, listening to the music of my alarm. I remember the man without a tuxedo and I smile, wondering if he dreams of me too. In his own perfect temporary...

**October 13th 2012
Reading this now, I am astonished at how well I pictured my future life and future husband. The wedding was always an impossibility, but my image of my future is now a beautiful reality. This dream was one of intense joy and overwhelming sorrow, even now. But I am glad to have been so sure that these things would come to me, and they have.