varying degrees of light

There's a photo buried in a box somewhere at my house. It's me with thirteen of my friends from high school at prom. It's our junior year and, of those fourteen guys, six are married now. We're in our tuxedos, smiling pleasantly as if our moms were watching. I dreamt last night that I went to go see Dan Poel get married. Poel is the first one to take his shirt off and improv a pole dance (very sexy) and did the best impressions in high school. He has a quote on his facebook from Vince Lombardi (Confidence is contagious; so is lack of confidence) and his job description reads, "i help people lift weights." He has a heart condition that kept him from playing football last year, but recently got approval from the doctor. His dad was a huge prankster in his years at Dordt. I saw a photo of him when I was a sophomore sitting on Dan's desk. He had a mullet and a party animal face; he looked like a nice guy. If I remember the story correctly, he died of a heart attack when he was in his thirties. Dan has a tattoo on his left bicep - his dad's name in a large novelty black font. He also got both his ears pierced with big diamond studs and walks around campus in shorts and t shirts from some athletic training camp or wherever. More often than not, the sleeves are cut off of those shirts and you can totally see his nipples. He'll notice you noticing his nipples and he'll ask if you want him to come over later to knock boots. THAT's who Dan Poel is.
So he got married last night to some girl that I had never seen before but now, thinking back on it, I imagine I respected the shit out of her - taming the beast and its hormones. I traveled via tugboat to a town that looked like it had seen more thriving days. The streets were empty, the buildings needed paint, the sidewalks were overgrown etc. The reception took place in an old Catholic church with winding, carpeted stairs and wood-paneling in the basement. Everybody was there. Dancing. There was a jazz band battle - some hired band tearing it up against the likes of Jason Kornelis, some other friends and Dan Davis. Who knew Dan Davis played standup bass? Who knew Dan Davis played standup bass so well? I thought that to myself sipping a glass of wine and he looked over and smiled in a way that said, "Yeah, how you like me now?" I danced with Scott and Margaret. I have to say this again: Everybody was there. I arranged to have drinks out on the town with some, shall we say, old friends when the reception began to slow down. Quick drinks. I had to get out of there, throw my stuff in a suitcase, and leave early. No, I know. I'm sorry. I won't be at the hangover-tending brunch the next morning. The dance floor was dark, the music was slow and smoky - I want to say elemental, and I can because this is a dream that I remember and also because screw you. I traveled to see my friend from high school marry a girl he loved, and was celebrating that with, like I said, everybody. We danced to dozens of beautiful songs and the dance floor was dark, slow, smoky and elemental. I remember after that, after drinks so brief we barely spoke, but looked at each other and sipped in a small place outside in the quiet, after that, on the tugboat pulling away from the island, I read message after message after message... from everybody... telling me they were happy, sad, angry, disappointed, surprised, disgusted, indecisive, anxious... mostly unhappy, but a few people were happy.