A Dreamers Life

Weddings and Butterflies

   I had a dream that I was a princess. I lived in a tall stone castle with a friend, but I didn't recognize her face; almost like it was blank. I had short curly blonde, bobbed hair, like the 1920s flapper girls. On my head was a pink cone headdress with white translucent silk flowing out from the top. I wore a simple pink medieval dress that covered every single inch of my body, with no jewelry to accompany the outfit.

In this dream I was to get married, but to whom was not yet decided. I had had gotten hundreds of letters from suitors. Despite being rushed to get married I denied them all, except one letter. From the pile a mellow yellow beige letter, bordered by wooden brown dashes along the edges had caught my eye. Opening it, I caught the aroma of strawberry's. Endeared by the cute letter I accepted the marriage proposal from it, not knowing who the sender was, as I did not recognize the name.

Everyone had created a huge deal of it; everybody, everywhere  became busy for the big day. I walked outside to be greeted  by construction for a replica of the Eiffel Tower to be made for the wedding. Outside I also saw a glimpse of a dog quickly trotting past. Leaving the area I was about to walk into the garden; separated by tall lush hedges that had been trimmed into a rectangular wall shape.

Looking back I saw that the ceremony area had been prepared. Almost like there was another one of me, or me glimpsing at another timeline of what would happen if I didn't leave into the garden. The wedding had already commenced and I stood at the altar facing the groom, holding both of his hands. Looking up the groom was the dog I had seen earlier except different. It had a human body with its dog head. The proportions were quite strange as well. The body was that of a normal human, and the dog head was the regular size of a pug head, making it look disproportionate.

Before the wedding vows were exchanged I left that alternate me, and headed into the garden. In there I walked on a dirt path though a wonderfully lovely flowered field. I passed by a lake with water fowl and lily pads; further on I passed by that white table that you would normally see in a vast garden along with white chairs and tea set to complete the look. I walked until I reached the other side.

The wall on this side was not made from hedge bushes, but instead a stone brick (or square rock blocks) that had a pale old orange tint to it. The wall only was tall as my waist and there was a rose bush overgrown on the other side. Walking through the short fence I walked onto another dirt path. It intercepted the one I was originally on, which made the two dirt paths have a t-shape. In front of me I look up and I'm faced to an oceanic venue down below. It looked as if the fence entrance was built on a cliff side.

Looking to my left I met this little girl. She looked about 8, and wore a summer dress that had overall buckles on it. I saw her trying to catch a butterfly that was hanging upside down on the rose flower. I told the girl she needed to leave the butterfly alone, might she hurt it. Her brother, who looked the same age, and mother were there, watching from the side. The three of them were walking a cat sized horse and had been attracted to the butterflies. I asked the three to step back and proceeded to point my finger out a fair distance from the butterflies in the air. I waited for a bit, till one of the butterflies that fluttered about came to rest on my outstretched finger. I told them that if the butterfly had already found a place to rest then it would be best to leave it alone.

The little girl however was insistent that the upside down butterfly on the rose was special, and reached out to grab the upside down butterfly's wings. In a flash back haze, I saw myself in the same situation again. Except instead the little girl was crying with a box, inside a velvet pillow, and laying upon it was the butterfly with broken wings. She cried telling me she only wanted for the butterfly to drink from a cup she collected nectar in.

I intensely stared into the amber liquid in the white cup she presented me, then I turned to the butterfly laying on the pillow with broken wings. I slowly hovered my fingers above the butterfly, and gently picked it up into the palm of my hands. I watched as it twitch it's broken wings confused. Afterwards I brought my hand over the white cup, and turned my hands over letting the broken butterfly fall in. It's bottom legs and left wing sank into the cup slowly, like how a pot of spilled honey runs and drips onto the floor. The butterfly shook wildly, only to sink ever so slowly till it tired and eventually became encased in the sweet amber nectar.