Marrying Catholics?
Once a month...a week...of intense dreams.  Very vivid dreams.  Usually meaningless.  But I'm always curious anyways.  Perhaps there is something deeper within it.  Which is where my dreams page comes from.  To see if perhaps anyone has any ideas or suggestions.  But I suppose that's also what the forum is for.  To get advice and others opinions on things.  Wish you all would use it for that.  Oh well.  At least it's got SOMETHING in it.  I should be happy.  Well enough small talk, time for the latest in dreams of Tracy Smith!

My eyes open slowly and I look around.  There's things I know in my mind.  One is that I'm 21.  The other, that I don't remember the last three years of my life.  A man escorts me forward slowly and I see the situation around me.  I'm in a gorgeous white dress.  He's in a tux.  Yeah.  I'm getting married.  We walk up to a priest.  My husband-to-be does the Catholic cross thing (a "Hail Mary"?) and kneels down.
"I'm not Catholic," O say to excuse myself.  The priest says something funny.  Probably like "Nobody's perfect."  I don't know.  But I kneel.  And the wedding proceeds.  In Latin.  Now I don't know one spit of Latin.  Nor would I be able to guess what's going on.  So after no "I do's" and some talking we both are apparently married, but we still have to sign the marriage certificate.  Now my confusion has up to this point left me in a daze.  So I haven't objected to anything.  But at this point it's real.  I promised myself I would never get a divorce.  But if I sign this paper, I will have to.  So I have a dilemma.  I obviously chose to do this for a reason.  I must love the man.  But he's Catholic.  And I have no clue who he is or what his name is.  Until he signs it of course.  I stall by filling in the other information.  My name.  Address.  Phone.  But I still haven't signed.  My "husband" looks at me confused, and I am left startled and amazed.  He has the most amazingly blue eyes I have ever seen in my life.  They are gorgeous.  He has brown hair that's a bit dorky, but he's handsome enough.  It's the eyes though.  They send me in a tizzy.  But not enough of one to sign the paper.  Instead I stammer out an apology.
"I'm sorry!  I really am!  But I just can't!  Something very weird is going on.  I can't remember the last three years," I try to explain.  We're alone in the room and I try to tell him the truth before hurrying out.

Strange interlude:  I'm in the car with my mother.  She's driving me to the mall.  And we're discussing something.  A choice I have to make I suppose.  We arrive and I get out of the car.  As I'm leaving she calls out to me.
"Tracy!  No matter what you decide.  I'll always love you," she says.  I smile and go in.  If you want I can describe the mall, but I don't think that's the important part.  I just watch her drive away though.

Back to my life.  Still 21.  It's a few weeks after the marriage thing.  I know I can rememebr those three weeks.  But I couldn't tell you what happened.  It's the three missing years that I can't explain.  Well I'm sitting up in bed.  The bed is a fold-out couch.  Across the room is our kitchen area.  Yes our.  I have the sheets up, but I'm clothed.  In the other room is my almost husband.  He's making lasagna for dinner.  We're discussing how much I dislike it, but it's okay.  We both have our own food, and his daughter likes it.  We mention her name, but it doesn't catch my attention well enough to remember..  I get out of bed and put the couch away.  I'm dressed now.  And we're arguing. The conversation has turned to getting married.  I try to explain it to him.  I've wanted a temple marriage my whole life.  I can't give it up.  Not now.  Not for him.  I can't.  He's angry and storms into the kitchen.  I'm working on something and he comes in with a box.  I can tell he's more angry than normal this time.
"I made you some lunch," he says and drops a box down in front of me.  I peer inside to find all of my food has apparently been cooked together.  Gross mind you.  He leaves the house.  And I know I should move out.  I don't know why we're living together anyways.  His sister is helping me move.  I don't have much, but I'm packing it.  My laundry basket.  Some dishes.  Stuff like that.  I have to sort out his stuff.  It's hard to do emotionally.  His sister is talking to me.  She mentions us living together being wrong.
"I've never slept with him," I say in my defense.  Instantly I know the story.  He has a daughter.  I pretend to be her mommy.  We go to bed in the same room, but after she's asleep one of us will head for the couch.  We take turns.  Last night was my turn on the couch.  I'm almost in tears at this point.  Then I find a piece of paper with his daughter's name on it.  Her name is Natalie.  Right then, something inside me stirs.  I know I'm supposed to marry this man. I don't know why, but I know I'm supposed to. It was his daughter's name that did it.  I wanted a daughter named Natalie.  And something felt...right.  I'm upset now.  His friends knock on the door and come in before I answer.  They are rude and in a hurry.  They take some of his stuff and leave.  He's moving out.
"That's weird. Why would he have to move out?  It's his house.," I say to his sister as I continue to sort through junk.  The phone rings.  She answers it.  It's the tow company, wanting to tow the mustang.  MY DAD'S MUSTANG!  He's saying it's his.  I tell her to tell them to check the name on the registration.  It's not his Mustang.  She hangs up and I feel awful.  I've got to find him and apologize.  But I have no idea where he is.  I head out of the room to look anyways.

Then I wake up.  BUT if you want to know how it ends...I've got an ending for you.  It's just what came into my head when I woke up.  Makes some sense though...
I find Natalie.  She's young, but bright.  Probably about five or six.  I'm thinking five.
"Natalie.  Do you know where Daddy would be?" I ask.  She has ideas.  So I get her buckled into the Mustang and we go to look.  She asks about school.  I say she gets to skip today, but she doesn't want to.  She likes school.  Apparently I taught her that.  I have no idea how.  I say I need her help, and she says she will.  We drive around asking questions.  I have to have Natalie tell me where to go.  In the end I go to my thinking spot.  I don't remember it, but it's apparently my spot.  I sit alone on the tall rock.  Natalie is playing by herself.  A paper is in my hand.  It's the marriage license.  I've signed it now.  I'm crying.  And then...he walks up behind me.  I can't help but kiss him.  He asks what has gotten into me and I begin my explanation.  Then he gives his.  He's been with the Bishop.  My Bishop.  He says he wants to take the discussions.  Find out what's so important to me.  The Bishop suggested he move out.  I suggest we get married.  He says he wouldn't mind, but wonders how we explain it to his daughter.
"Easy, just tell her the truth.  We want to try to get married again," I say with a smile.
A discussion with Natalie later....
My dad's walking me down the aisle this time.  It's not the temple marriage I wanted, but better than the last one.  At least now I know what's going on.  Besides, Natalie looks so cute...