Fred and I both had nightmares last night. He woke me up at 5 a.m. to tell me that I had cheated on him. "You were stripping for Aaron," he said, appalled that I would dare do something do scandalous in his very twisted imagination—and for his best friend, no less.
"That's funny," I replied, yawning, "because I just murdered our wedding photographer. And he was a little person."
It was such a vivid dream. In it, Fred and I changed the date of our wedding from October to May (I have no idea why) and when I called to tell my photographer the date had changed he said that was too bad and that we couldn't have our refund back. I naturally went over to his house and came face to face with a little person— he was about 3 feet tall. I proceeded to punch him in the face and then throw him into a garage door. He started bleeding profusely. I panicked. And then woke up.
I'm no dream interpreter, but I don't think I have a secret violent streak or vendetta against little people. I am slightly stressed about the money involved with our wedding which I imagine is where not getting my refund back came into play.
As far as Fred's nightmare, I don't think he really believes I would cheat on him. I did take a pole dancing class on Saturday with a few girlfriends for fun, so I'm sure that's where the stripping part got into his head.
I guess what I'm learning is that the months leading up to tying the knot are a strange journey. I think we both harbor deep fears and concerns about getting married that we don't always acknowledge. And dreams (or nightmares) are our minds' way of trying to work through them. As unsettling as they can be, the only thing we can do is talk about what they might mean, then laugh them off.
And, of course, double-check my photographer's refund policy.