Oops, Version II

So I had another strange dream last night: I decided to marry an Indian man instead of Zack.

I got dressed in a beautiful red and gold sari. The ceremony began with the applicaton of bindis and three stripes of ash to our foreheads. Then we rang a tiny, porcelain bell and arranged some tacky, empty photo frames. When it came time for us to feed eachother, I realized that the groom hadn't done a damn thing to prepare for the cermony; his mother, at the altar with us, was doing it all. I received the food his mother passed to him, biting into the braised, sweet green onion and realized that after the wedding, he was going to turn into an abusive, good-for-nothing husband. I freaked. Seeing an out, I asked the mother if it would be okay if I went to the bathroom. On my way out of the room, I got Zack's attention and with subtle head gestures and grunts indicated that he should follow me. We walked down the hallway into Zay's old bedroom at the Liberty Penthouse. It was so easy to talk to Zack, so comfortable. I started to cry because I realized that I was marrying the wrong man. I told Zack that he made me laugh like no-one else, and that I wanted to marry him. He responded, "No no no no nope. You are the ex-wife that I love". His tone was full of cold finality, and I realized that I'd missed my chance. I woke up crying. For once it was a relief to hear him snoring beside me.

That makes for the second dream I've had about marrying the wrong person.

And now all you married people can reassure me by telling me that you had similar dreams before your big date (or dates in the case of hmc and e) and that they won't plague me for the next eight months. Don't be shy now. Make me feel better!