love & marriage

vintage wedding paper dolls, 1966

I ran across these photos in my digital stash over the weekend, taken a couple years ago for my friend, Jeff, who was reselling these vintage wedding paper dolls printed in the U.S.A. in 1966. They seem topically appropriate for Valentine's Day, a holiday I mostly ignore, except that I found myself standing in the candy aisle at Target the other night, trying for far too long to decide between candy hearts and chocolate kisses.

Children, at least, believe in love and expect sugar. So I bought candy and cut out a few red paper hearts during lunch yesterday, taping them to the chalkboard beside my desk. All the colorful, cluttered posters of butterflies and underwater seascapes and the paper flowers strewn around my kidney-shaped desk are for them, their view each day during our sessions, their imagination. I prefer facing the large window overlooking the courtyard garden, still in hibernation, glancing up at the sliver of gray—sometimes blue—sky, or dry leaves whirling in the wind, or raindrops falling, or, if lucky, snow, or maybe a squirrel or bird on the roof.

Anything I would have to say on the topic of love and marriage would be snarky, bitter—a layer of verbal scab crusted over a raw red wound (what can happen when dreams die). So all I'll say is that maybe someday, one day, years from now, perhaps, just possibly, I might believe again in one or the other, though both might be too much to ask for.

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