I dream of marrying an architect or an archaeologist, one who studied art history and ancient civilizations in school and has a soft spot for things that are old. I dream that he is loved and trusted in his field, that he will need to travel to Italy, to Germany, to the Czech Republic, Greece, and Egypt to work on delicate restoration projects. I don’t dream of the money. I dream of the way he looks at the structures with a passion almost greater that than that with which he looks at me. I dream that he will see me close my eyes and press my hand against the wall of an old building, and he will smile because he understands that I can feel the years beneath my fingers, hear the sighing of the wood, and feel all those who have brushed against it over the years. I dream that we will live together in a home older than our parents and our parent’s parents and their parents before them. I dream that we will walk the streets of ancient cities together, eyes wide, hand in hand. I dream that he will come home covered in dust, smelling of damp moss and wood. I dream that I will whisper to him that he needs to get some sleep, that this can wait until morning, as he pours over plans and numbers. I dream that he will look at me and smile and agree.
I dream that I will marry a history professor, one like the history professors I fell a little bit in love with each semester during my time at the university. I dream that he will be loud and passionate with a twinkle of mystery that grows larger in his eyes as he speaks about his favourite subjects. I dream that he will speak with a wisdom that mesmerizes me and leaves me curious. I dream that he will answer my hundreds of questions without frustration, without judgement. I dream that he will be a storyteller. I dream that I will catch the corners of his mouth curling ever so slightly into a smile as he reads old heavy books at his desk at night. I dream that he will wear small glasses that fall to the tip of his nose when he concentrates too hard, and that he will carry a briefcase with two brass latches that click when he opens them. I dream that he will whisper stories to me as we fall asleep so that I will dream in different centuries.
I dream too much.