Counting Silk

The room is spinning, as is my head.
I rub my hands together, and they stick like glue.
I look down. White lace, satin, silk; the perfect gown to match the perfect setting.
A garden, 4pm.
"You look beautiful," they'd chant. "Simply gorgeous."
"Are you ready? They're waiting for you."

Shift.
I'm at the top of the aisle. Red roses sweep the wooden arch above you. Take a step, my mind screams.
And another. And another. Keep going.

I'm next to you. The veil masks my smile. Friends and family watch as we exchange our vows.
We share that promising kiss.

You shed a tear or two.
As do I.

Shift again.
We're at the after party. White gazebo, wood flooring and a stage. Jazz band.
Laughter. Drinks.
The air is warm and I catch your eye from across the room. You wink.
I smile shyly. You're mine, and will be forever.

Another shift, time flies and I'm flying. A kick is all it takes to stun ones self back to reality.
I wake up.
I look around my cluttered room, taking it all in. I reach over to your side of the bed; empty.
I'm a 17 year old student.
And I'm waiting for a dream.