Letters to Grams: The Dance

July 6
Loriwen Snowberry, 6 Long Street, Wildore, Bree-land

Grams!

Everything went wonderfully at the dance. The weather was fair, the musicians played, people loved the ale and food, and I didn’t fall in the mud. It was a lovely night, and the fireworks were an unexpected treat! I don’t remember anyone mentioning them before, so that made the night all the much better. People liked my ale more than I thought they would. Then again, last I made it, I added the basil to it. This wasn’t that, just regular blackberry ale. Blueberry, too! For those who wanted a more mild brew. I thought ahead, not wanting to get the more fragile ladies drunk. That would be no good.

Ah, so many wonderful dancers were there. It was a beautiful sea of twirling dresses and laughter. The fact that it began at dusk made it more of a dream than anything. That’s my favorite time of day, you know. The morning is nice because you have the whole day ahead of you, but some say that the world seems to get a little foggy around the edges at dusk, a bit like you’re floating in a dream. I tend to like that way of thinking about it. That’s how the entire night felt to me. I’m still waiting to wake up.

I actually danced. Well, as much a dance as I’ll ever manage to do without falling down and breaking something. It wasn’t much of anything, just some arms wrapped around the other and some movement, but.. it was something. More than I’ve ever done before! Dancing is a funny thing, at least to someone as clumsy as me. It requires you, normally, to pay attention to your feet, keep what would be a proper distance between you, and talk. All at the same time! You know, I may actually consider taking Rosie up on those lessons. She and Course looked absolutely lovely when they were dancing. Very happy, but then again, being newly married will do that to you! At least, I’d hope so. Ah, being able to dance like that, without falling over or hurting anyone is just a dream for me at this point. Then again, the night was such a dream, why can’t I continue it? I’ll think about it.

I imagine I sound aflutter. Well, I am. Things were said that night that I didn’t expect for quite some time. Do you know how you have a moment in your head, the perfect moment that you play over and over in your mind? Something you build up in your head, this grand explosion of truth? Well, it didn’t happen. Not the way I thought it would. Now that it’s happened, though, I don’t care about that perfect moment. The moment that really happened is what’s perfect now, because that’s what actually happened. I keep replaying this scene over and over. I can’t believe it’s real. It’s funny, how so many perceptions can change in the span of a second: a single phrase is all it takes to transform a bumbling courting into a bumbling relationship. Ah, this is all too soon. Too soon, Grams. Too soon, and I’m having trouble getting myself to care that it is.

Everything seems easier when we’re together. When he holds me close, I close my eyes and everything else melts away. When he kisses me, the world disappears. I don’t even remember to breathe half the time! How I wish you were here. All my friends are younger and more impulsive than I’m trying to be, it’s difficult to get sound advice from them. One of them was trying to convince me to sleep with him within two weeks of meeting both him and her! Another blushed and admitted her courtship was far too short by old standards. The only friend I have who is really of my age is him. That doesn’t help much, now does it?

Ah, well. I suppose I am well and truly on my own in this. All I know is that I’m just not ready for children. No way, no how. Me? Children? Such a scary notion, I think. I’ve gotten better, I really have. But children? I’m not nearly steady enough in my everyday life to really even consider such a thing! I mean, I have, but who hasn’t on some level? He brings them up quite a bit on his own, it’s a little scary. He seems to be concerned I’m under the impression I’m too old to bear a child. For a surety, I know that isn’t the case! Mother was how old when she had me? At least around my age, I think.. maybe older? I can’t remember. I do wish Dad talked about her more. Let’s not re-open that wound, though, shall we? The point is…children scare me. A lot. I like them well enough, but to be responsible for one? No. Not yet. I need to able to look inside myself and feel it. Something’s holding me back, it doesn’t feel right. Is that normal? Am I supposed to want a child by this time? Because I don’t! I want to want a child, but I don’t. I hope that’s alright.

Well, it will just have to be. That’s not something I am going to be coerced into agreeing with. No point in worrying about it now, I’ll speak with a friend of mine about it in a few days. She’s a smart woman, she’ll know something. Pregnant, herself! A bit off, but I can see a lot of sweetness in her. Helvia’s her name, married herself a Gondorian named Guradan. Haven’t met him, but he sounds like quite the sweet man from what she’s told me so far! It’ll be nice to finally meet him one day. Ah, but I should be going. I need to clean my house again. I was so worried about the dance and my dress being ready and the ales being perfect and everything else that I outright forgot to clean. Not much is more embarrassing than being greeted by your escort in a dirty house. Nothing to be done about it now, he didn’t seem to mind much. I will clean house today, and figure out a good time to see my friend.

Goodbye, Grams. I visit Dad this Friday. I’ll tell him “hello” for you.

Your pumpkin,
Lori