Note: This is a dream I had. It's been on my mind all day, so I figured I would share it. I saw every part of what I described, though I added more detail so you can see what happened.
It was my wedding day.
I got out of the car and walked into the humble building. It was small and quaint. There was one main room with a few pews on either side of the room and an aisle going down the middle. The pews on the right were filled with faces I knew and recognized as my family. The pews on the left were filled with less familiar people, and yet I knew who they were. It was his family.
I looked down to the front and I saw him. Brian. I had never seen him before, and yet I knew who he was and I knew that I was going to marry him. Today. As I approached him, I saw that he was a little taller than me and was a cute sort of chubby. He had short, light brown hair, but when I looked at him, he didn't even smile.
We were polite as I approached him. He took my hand and we faced the podium. My other hand rested on a white altar in front of us. He reached across and took that hand too, resting them between us on the altar. Somebody was speaking, but I wasn't paying attention because I was confused. I didn't remember Brian at all.
Then I realized that it was my turn to speak. I opened my mouth to begin what I had prepared, when Brian's sister began talking. The fragile politeness shattered, the moment gone. I felt the doubts come flooding in, drowning me with their "what if's" and "how comes."
It was too much. I ran outside, drinking in the cool air. I walked back and forth, thinking hard. Why could I not remember Brian? I didn't remember anything. Why was I marrying him? Was it the right thing to do? How can I make such an important decision and not remember anything about us? I realized I hadn't prayed to find out if he was the one for me, which was what scared me the most.
Footsteps sounded behind me. I turned around and found Brian walking up to me. I walked toward him and put my hands on his shoulders, making sure he was real. "Brian," I began, "Did we really happen?"
He looked a little confused. "Yes."
"Then how come I can't remember us?" I ran my hands up and down his shoulders, trying to figure this out and comfort him at the same time. "I mean I don't remember meeting you or dating you or getting engaged." I paused. "Why can't I remember?" I asked him.
He just looked at me. I sighed. "I guess I'm just having doubts." His face fell. "I know you're a great man," I said quickly "but I just need to think."
"You can't leave me at the altar," he said, his voice small and desperate.
"I won't," I told him. I began to cry. "It's just all my life I have been told to pray about my future husband and to make sure that he's the right one. I don't want to marry you and then just divorce you later, so I need to think and pray about us. I don't want us to get divorced," I sobbed. "Promise me you'll never divorce me."
I wrapped my arms around him tightly, hoping he would comfort me. "I promise," he said, his arms hanging limply at his sides.
I sobbed harder. He didn't wrap his arms around me, didn't even try to comfort me. "Please just hug me back."
He put his arms around me. "My mom's coming. I need to talk to her now," he said after a moment.
"Okay." I quickly composed myself. I decided to go the bathroom and pray hard and hope for an answer fast. I walked away quickly, not looking back at him and not looking at his mother. I walked into a stall and stood there for a moment, gathering my thoughts together. I folded my arms and prayed with all my might, asking if Brian was the one I was supposed to marry. And then I waited. And the answer came.
He's the one.