"Look," I told my best man, "I just don't think I can do it."
"Are you joking?" he said. "You've been planning this day for how long now?"
He was right. My fiancee and I had been planning this day for more than a year now. We had gone through countless hours of phone calls, fittings, and logistics, as well as several bottles of headache relief. Finally the magical day had arrived, and I found myself having second thoughts.
"A while," I replied. I sighed heavily and shook my head. "I just can't help but think about... what next."
"What next?"
"After the wedding. What happens next?"
His brow furrowed. "Well, your parents already set you up with that beautiful house on the lake."
"Right, right. But... after that."
He nodded. "You mean, when you have kids?"
"Yes."
"Why are you worrying?" he asked. He smiled. "You're still young."
"That's what I mean. Good God, I'm only twenty-four. Barely out of college. Not even a quarter of a century. I mean, I can hardly take care of myself, let alone..."
"...A family?"
"Yes."
"Good God, you're only twenty-four," he said. "Why are you worrying? You're still young!"
"What?"
"You've got your whole life ahead of you, and you're stuck here worrying about the future. You're still young- you have plenty of time left. Everything will sort itelf out. Don't worry about it."
"But I have to make plans! I have to have contingencies-"
"Plans? Contingencies? Damn it, listen to yourself- you sound like some sort of general! Just relax, will you?"
"I'm trying..."
"Look, you know plans never work out, anyways."
"Right, right..."
"So why even bother making them? Just deal with life as it comes to you, and you'll be fine."
"What?"
He sighed and leaned closer. "Look," he said. "Life is... a dance. A dance. You do your best to go through the motions, but if you trip, you recover and move on. There's no planning, there's no redoing it- only continuous motion. Got it?"
"I think so..."
He nodded and stood up to leave. "Good," he said. He looked at his watch. "It's almost showtime," he said. "You'd better get ready." He left without another word.
I looked at my own watch. I had ten minutes until the ceremony began. I stood up quickly, straightened my bowtie, and dashed outside.
I melted in with the crowd of guests. Everyone was dressed in bright, gaudy colors, and they talked happily and loudly as they rythmically milled around. I wove in and out of the guests, avoiding congratulations, simply trying to make my way to the chapel. I had just laid my hand on the heavy doorknob when I heard a shout.
I whipped around to see a great ruckus erupting. People were running around frantically, some running into each other. I pulled a guest aside and asked what the matter was.
"There's a dog on the loose!" he shouted.
"What? Did it hurt anyone?"
"No, it's just a bloody Chihuahua," he replied. "It got away from its owner, and she's raising high hell to get it back."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a small shape moving rapidly. I turned and saw the dog in question dashing into the reception area. The guest saw the dog as well, and he shouted in alarm. A large crowd began to go after the dog, and somehow I got caught up in the mayhem.
We found the dog cowering under one of the tables. Evidently it had been spooked by the loud noises. I sympathized with it. One of the guests crawled under the table and coaxed the dog into his hands. When he had grabbed the dog, he carefully handed it back to its grateful owner.
I heard another shout. I turned and saw that a woman had caught fire. She was wearing a particularly large and cumbersome dress, and she had strayed too close to one of the tray warmers. She waved her arms frantically and screamed like a banshee. We all rushed to her. One of the guests had the brilliant idea to douse the flames with vodka. The flames leapt even higher, turning blue as they did. The woman screamed even louder. I was about to reach for the punch bowl when I was shoved violently out of the way.
I fell face-first into the potatoes au gratin.
When I had picked the last potato slice off of myself, I looked and saw that the flames had been put out. The woman was unharmed, but she was flustered. The crowd guided her out of the reception hall, cooing and reassuring her. The best man came rushing in to check on the damage. I gave him a rueful look.
"What the hell happened in here?" he asked. He saw me and started. "What the hell are you doing in here? You're late!"
"Late?" I choked.
"Yes, late! The ceremony was supposed to begin already! Hurry!"
I did not waste another minute. I rushed into the chapel. The guests turned and looked at me in unison, swaying gently in their seats. I hurriedly made my way up the aisle and took my position by the altar. The priest gave me a knowing look and signaled for the music to begin. The band began to play a regal march. I turned to look down the aisle.
I saw my dearly beloved bride striding slowly and purposefully up the aisle. Her dress shone with an ethereal grace, and her face was joyfully radiant. She smiled warmly. When she arrived at the altar, she took my hands and gazed into my eyes. Her smile grew even bigger, and her eyes sparkled with delight. I felt exactly the same way.
The ceremony was a blur. All I could focus on was my fiancee's face, glowing with happiness. When we kissed, fireworks went off in my mind. I had done it. The moment had come at last. We turned, husband and wife, and faced the audience. They applauded wildly. Flowers were thrown into the air. The band played a triumphant voluntary as we processed out.
We made our way to the middle of the dance floor. The guests gathered around us, waiting with bated breath. The violinist took his position, and we took ours. We gazed at each other, waiting for the music to begin.
The violinist stretched one more time and began to play. The music swelled to fill the hall, its sensuous lines and pounding rythym reverberating back and forth, soaking into our bodies.
And we danced. We danced. We danced like we had never danced before. Our feet moved in time with the pulse, our bodies with the music. I felt as if we were dancing on a cloud. My body flooded with joy. I closed my eyes and gave myelf to the music.
And I came to a realization: Life was a dance. Nothing more, nothing less. All I had to do was move to the music, and the rest would take care of itself. If I messed up, nobody would care- all I had to do was pick myself up and dance. And keep dancing. And dance some more. That's all there was to it. I laughed quietly.
And we danced.
