Status: ---Finished---
Arranged in the City In Love in the Suburbs
I'm Aranged
I had three weeks left. Three more weeks to plan. Three more weeks to debate. Three more weeks until my life was not how I planned. No, I wasn’t pregnant. I wasn’t fighting cancer. But I was in an arranged marriage. Not many of these still happen today, but there are the rare occasions that you parents think they know exactly who you’ll turn out be the minute you’re born. So there was three weeks left of my single life, or engaged life.
My mom always wanted me to be a housewife, to be a stay-at-home mom. But I had other plans. I had my whole life planned out. I was going to graduate Manhattan Senior High School with honors, go to the New York Institute of Performing Arts, travel the world and bring joy to those who loved dancing, open my own dance studio, and then settle down and have a family. My mother wanted something completely different. She wanted me to at least get through High School, skip collage, and go right to having a family.
Needless to say we had a conflict of interests in my house. My father never approved of my multiple interests. I had such a passion for dance, when I was dancing I didn’t care who saw or approved. Art was something my life found peaceful. I would go through six canvases a month. But I always exceeded at law. He wanted me to go to Harvard Law School and become a lawyer. He said dancing and art did nothing for the good of society. But he was wrong.
Andrew didn’t care about what my interests were. He didn’t care how I spent my free time. In his mind, as long as I was happy, nothing else mattered. He was in love, I was distant. Andrew wasn’t a bad guy. He was nice and sweet and gentle, but there was no common ground. He was so into sports you couldn’t break his focus for anything. The smoke alarm could go off and he wouldn’t even notice. The house could be burning down, but he would still look at the flat screen. Andrew was a city. Born and raised in New York. Has had everything handed to him on a sliver platter. Never had to work for anything. Never even had to pay his own car payments. The typical rich kid next door.
My mom always wanted me to be a housewife, to be a stay-at-home mom. But I had other plans. I had my whole life planned out. I was going to graduate Manhattan Senior High School with honors, go to the New York Institute of Performing Arts, travel the world and bring joy to those who loved dancing, open my own dance studio, and then settle down and have a family. My mother wanted something completely different. She wanted me to at least get through High School, skip collage, and go right to having a family.
Needless to say we had a conflict of interests in my house. My father never approved of my multiple interests. I had such a passion for dance, when I was dancing I didn’t care who saw or approved. Art was something my life found peaceful. I would go through six canvases a month. But I always exceeded at law. He wanted me to go to Harvard Law School and become a lawyer. He said dancing and art did nothing for the good of society. But he was wrong.
Andrew didn’t care about what my interests were. He didn’t care how I spent my free time. In his mind, as long as I was happy, nothing else mattered. He was in love, I was distant. Andrew wasn’t a bad guy. He was nice and sweet and gentle, but there was no common ground. He was so into sports you couldn’t break his focus for anything. The smoke alarm could go off and he wouldn’t even notice. The house could be burning down, but he would still look at the flat screen. Andrew was a city. Born and raised in New York. Has had everything handed to him on a sliver platter. Never had to work for anything. Never even had to pay his own car payments. The typical rich kid next door.