A Procrustean Bed- a standard or set of conditions, determined arbitrarily, to which everyone is forced to conform.
But the question is... are there really any rules when it comes to the affairs of the heart?
I sat at the dining table surrounded by my family and took a deep breath, closing my eyes for a split second. The atmosphere was so tense, and the room was so eerily quiet, you could literally hear the proverbial pin drop.
My older brother's head was lowered, his eyes trained on the pristine white tablecloth, and his large hands folded neatly in front of him. Next to him, his wife's perfectly plucked right eyebrow was arched in a defiant manner, her scarlet, lipstick-coated, plump lips set into a straight line as her freezing, ice blue glare pinned me to my chair.
I let my gaze travel towards my younger brother, seeking for support. To my relief, I was not met with disapproval. On the contrary. Even though his face showed no sign of emotion, the mischievous, impish twinkle in his eyes let me know he was taking the news much better than the rest of the family. He was actually happy for me. His girlfriend was smiling hugely for some reason, and I found myself responding with a shy smile of my own.
That's until I met my mother's fierce, dark stare. There was so much hostility and anger directed at the woman sitting next to me that I actually felt my heart start to beat faster in my chest.
I reached under the table and took her delicate hand in mine, linking our fingers together. Her entire body was trembling, and I knew her well enough to realize she was on the verge of crying. I wanted to rush to my feet, scoop her up into my arms protectively and leave this goddamn house. I wanted to tell her how much I loved her. I wanted to assure her that nothing and no one was going to stand in the way of our happiness. I wanted to promise her a better, brighter future.
I did none of that. I just sat there and allowed these people who rightfully called themselves blood of my blood to ridicule her. And it made me realize... I was acting even worse and more disgraceful than all of them combined.
How did I get here?
How did we get here?
These were the two questions relentlessly plaguing my mind.
Finally, I let myself look at my father; the man who had always been there for me since the very day I was born.
A single, short nod of his head spoke more than a thousand words.
He was still there for me.
A/N Sooo? What did you think? Please review and let me know whether I should continue or not.