Chapter 17: To Make Dreams Truth

Dear love, for nothing less than thee
would I have broke this happy dream;
it was a theme.
For reason, much too strong for fantasy.
Therefore thou waked'st me wisely; yet
my dream thou broke'st not, but continued'st it.
Thou art so true that thoughts of thee suffice
To make dreams truths and fables histories;
Enter these arms, for since thou thought'st it best
Not to dream all my dream, let's act the rest.

As lightning, or a taper's light,
Thine eyes, and not thy noise, waked me;
Yet I thought thee—
For thou love'st truth—an angel, at first sight;
But when I saw thou saw'st my heart,
And knew'st my thoughts beyond an angel's art,
When thou knew'st what I dreamt, when thou knew'st when
Excess of joy would wake me, and cam'st then,
I must confess it could not choose but be
Profane to think thee anything but thee.

Coming and staying show'd thee thee,
But rising makes me doubt that now
Thou art not thou.
That Love is weak where Fear's as strong as he;
'Tis not all spirit pure and brave
if mixture it of Fear, Shame, Honour have.
Perchance as torches, which must ready be,
Men light and put out, so thou deal'st with me.
Thou cam'st to kindle, go'st to come: then I
will dream that hope again, but else would die.

"The Dream" by John Donne (1573—1631)

Slowly, so as not to startle her, Erik lifted his hand to her face and brushed away an errant lock of curls. She surprised him by not drawing away, but leaning into his touch. Drawing her close to his breast, he lowered his lips to hers and bestowed upon her a kiss full of promise for all of their tomorrows.

It seemed to the couple that the afternoon had started only moments ago, but as the lowering sun began to shine into their eyes, no longer shielded from them by the trees overhead, they knew it was time to pack up their basket and leave their private retreat of the afternoon. As Christine moved about, the sparkle of the diamonds on her finger caused her eyes to return continually to the ring she now wore upon her finger. Each time her eyes gazed upon the wondrous ring that was now hers, she smiled and sighed. She felt conflicting emotions; her heart caught between elation and guilt.

"How is it that I should come to know such happiness? Surely, I must be dreaming."

As if to dispute her silent doubt, Erik placed his arms about her waist and drew her into a warm embrace.

"I shall never tire of holding you thusly, my dear. Never did I imagine I would find love and be loved in return.¹ You make me feel like spouting poetry and sonnets. I feel capricious and lighthearted. These are feelings I never expected to use in describing myself. With you by my side, I can ignore the scornful eyes of the rest of the world."

He drew back then lifted her up and spun her about him, laughing. She found his joy contagious and soon found she could not help but laugh along with him. After a moment, he lowered her to the ground and rested his forehead upon hers.

"How is it, my love, that you look upon me and see a man when the rest of the world only sees a monster?"

Surprised by the sudden seriousness of his words, she looked up into his face. He saw only confusion in her eyes and he sighed wistfully.

"Even now, my dearest, you do not understand, but you will. I wish it were not so, but you will. When we encounter crowds, you shall know firsthand the evil that men do.²"

"Erik, I do not understand you. Why would anyone think you a monster? You are the kindest and gentlest soul I have ever encountered in my life."

She paused.

"Do you say these things because of your face?"

He nodded and she shook her head.

"Well then, do not feel too badly. People always fear that which is different, or that which they do not understand. If they fear you, they fear the difference in the form of your face, not in the substance of the man who wears it. They fear me because they do not understand me. We are as alike as peas in a pod. You wear your difference on the outside and I wear mine on the inside. Perhaps, together we shall heal one another."

Her voice softened.

"I often wonder ... how my life would be different ... if, well, I just wonder."

"Christine, what is it that you wonder?" He placed his index finger under her chin and lifted her face. "Please? I wish to know everything there is to know about you. If we are to heal each other's hurts, we must not keep secrets." He smiled sweetly to soften his words.