Tag Archives: chances

Chocolate Croissants

Like any hopeful beauty, she dreamed day and night. But what she saw was not just a happy ending. No, it was much more than that. She saw what she wanted and needed with all her heart. It wasn’t to make or add to her happiness but to enhance it.

At night, amongst the many paintings and countless stories, she laid in bed. She didn’t see the white picket fence with flowers blooming all around. She didn’t see kids running across the yard or hear a baby crying through the window. She didn’t even see her own fame and glory. What she saw was not what everyone told her to dream.

There was a dog though. He slept on an old worn out leather chair he had claimed when he was a puppy. They tried to throw it out but he had hopped up on it and sat there like a royal king being carried around by his loyal subjects. The picture is hanging on a wall if you don’t believe it.

There was a man too. He didn’t claim a chair, instead he slept in the bed beside her holding her close. Yet, throughout the night, he would toss and turn either curling up in a ball, lying on his belly or submerged in the sea of blankets. It wouldn’t be for long though.

Because in the morning, he would wake up, stretch out and glance down to see her curled up in the crook of his arm. He was checking if she was awake or still drooling along his chest.

Of course she felt his subtle movement and stirred in her sleep. A dampness would reach her attention and as she moved to wipe her mouth, he would chuckle softly.

Embarrassed, she quickly tried to hide the evidence but it would always be too late. He caught her and even though it was a hassle to wash his shirt every day, he didn’t really mind. But, he never would admit it. He took too much pleasure teasing her about it as she tried to hide her actions by rubbing her eyes or pulling the covers up to hide her beautiful face.

Still, the top of her head would peak out tempting him to lightly tussle her hair. And as his chest rose and fell, she brushed her face against him purring all along.

Once he would stop, she would climb atop his waist and peer down at him. A smile would brighten her eyes and the final rays of the early morning sun would push through the blinds. He would check the time and the dog would begin his morning stretch before clumsily walking over to poke his nose between the sheets.

The man would jump away from the cold wet nose only to pat him on the head. She then would rub his ears just the way he liked it.

The satisfied pup would then curl up on the rug just below them and patiently wait as the man taunted her out of bed with the idea of coffee and sweets. It sounded good to her but it wasn’t until he said the magic phrase that would finally pull her out of bed. Chocolate croissants were always a weak point of hers and he knew her well.

They shared one final kiss in the misty morning air and that would always be the moment her eyes would flutter.

It wasn’t just a dream any more.

© 2016 Jessica Santos

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Hide and Seek

“Ready or not here I come!” he shouted as he opened his eyes and found me patiently sitting beside him.

Confused, he asked, “Aren’t you suppose to be hiding?”

Shrugging, I curled up beside him and pushed my back against his chest making him fall on to the bed and wrap his arms around me.

“I am hiding,” I said resting my head against his beating heart.

I heard the thunderous booming of his chuckling as he playfully teased, “I think you’ve forgotten how to play the game then.”

I shook my head, “When I was little, I was so tiny that I could fit inside the smallest space and hide away from the world…”

He lightly kissed the top of my head momentarily distracting me before I continued, “But now, with you, I feel like I shine brighter than the sun. So the greatest spot to hide would be right here in your arms.”

Kissing me softly on the lips, he looked at me curiously then covered my eyes and whispered, “Your turn.”

I sighed and closed my eyes. As he left the room, I began to count in my own darkness. I listened intently to hear his footsteps but not a sound was made. When I finally finished, I opened my eyes and searched the house.

I entered every room looking behind curtains, under beds, behind doors where I checked closets and hundreds of boxes holding our new furniture.

But, I couldn’t find him.

We only recently bought the house so there wasn’t much to hide around. So where could he be?

After searching and searching I returned to our room where my eyes rested on our orchid that sat on the windowsill. I smiled and walked over to its delicate resting place. Touching the sturdy leaves, I looked out into the street and giggled.

Dashing down the stairs and out the front door, I saw him sitting on a bench across the street in front of our neighbor’s yard.

He must have felt my gaze and looked up at me causing our eyes to momentarily meet. He smiled and beckoned me to join him.

Quickly, I snatched the keys we had left on top of an unopened box in the yard and joined him. He stood up and hugged me tight kissing my forehead before grabbing my hand and leading me down the street saying, “There is no best hiding spot as long as one is always looking.”

© 2016 Jessica Santos

I’m Here Old Friend

“Just let it go. But, how can I? Nothing is the same any more.”

Now, I’m not afraid of the change. I’m more afraid of what I know to be true. They say the truth hurts but the truth hardly ever surprises me except this time…

At first, I thought it was anger. Then, my day went on and as I focused on how to get rid of it, I realized how wrong I was. It wasn’t anger at all. Instead, it was pain and sadness.

I don’t typically cry to express these two emotions. It tends to brew and hide itself under a false sense of anger which explains my confusion. (If I were to cry, that is usually out of relief.) So, knowing this, I know I’m not ready to let go.

I’m not ready because I don’t want to see my best friend in his last best suit. And the most painful part is knowing that he’s suffering. He use to be someone I sought for comfort. He was my protector, my guide and my right hand.

So, how am I suppose to let it go when the biggest question in my mind is what can I possibly do to help even though I know there is nothing I nor anyone else can do?

© 2016 Jessica Santos

Pennies

Okay, here’s the deal
We want speed
But don’t forget to make it pretty
You can’t just slap it on
Call it a day
And move on
No
We don’t work like that
So you won’t either

Hurry up though
Time is ticking
Tempers are rising
They pay good money after all
The funniest part
You will only get ten an hour

How you will manage?
I do not know
To be honest
I do not care
Just clock in on time
Leave quickly
And always wear that smile
Cause if you don’t
They will know exactly how miserable you are

© 2016 Jessica Santos

Call for an End, for a Beginning

I don’t typically do this but I’m going to use the cliche “there’s always a first” to start. All of my mentors whether young or old have told me in some form or another that life is a roller coaster. I always believed them and I still do. Not once do I question my mentor’s teachings.

Here’s another cliche: “no one passes through life unscathed.” And one more…”everyone has a story, a lesson, a moral.” So as you can tell or already know, I’m filled with cliches, old sayings and popular teachings of the “golden” days. This isn’t because I’m wise or have experienced the most for a person of my age but I listen.

During the few family gatherings, instead of sitting with the little kids glued to the television, I seek out the individuals conversing, sharing stories and actually having some form of interaction. As I listen to their conversations, I can’t help but smile and revel in where I am.

You know those popular questions that surface when there is doubt?

Am I living my life how I should? Am I missing something? Why haven’t I reached a revelation yet?

Well, I ask myself these questions but it’s all for a waste of time.

In life, I am exactly where I should be, facing the challenges I need to face and dealing with the ups and downs in the best way available for me. What I endure is no less or greater than others, it simply is my own. Everyone gets casted from their family. Everyone gets heartbroken. Everyone receives a life crippling pain. But no one experiences or learns from it in quite the same manner.

When I was a little girl, my parents would push me academically and socially to no end. Eventually, as school grew harder, the importance of academics outweighed my social life and they encouraged a sharper focus on school.

One may begin to think that I ended up “hating” school but what happened was quite the opposite. I ended up loving to learn. I find that a part of being human is to have the ability to learn and grow no matter the age.

Often, my father would sit me down with my brother and we would pour over COLLEGE level textbooks. Don’t get me wrong, it was rough and a struggle and it didn’t help that he would get frustrated like any other and exert his frustration in the form of yelling but I can’t blame him.

Now that I’m a tutor and mentor for others, I understand and feel his frustration but use my experience with him to guide me into being a better teacher for future generations.

However, at the time, those lessons with him were exhausting and purely resulted in me gaining an exuberant amount of knowledge at the price of being afraid.

For years, I worked hard in my academics just to please and satisfy others instead of myself because I didn’t believe in myself. Rather, I believed that I would amount to nothing and go no where.

I was lost, confused and afraid.

Then one day, I got my “Hogwart’s” letter saying I’ve been accepted into some college and it is here where one may think that was the day I stopped feeling lost but no. People congratulated me and said a job well done but I still didn’t believe in myself. I still worked hard for others.

It wasn’t until the end of my second year in college that I began to realize how great I truly am. A grade, a congratulations, a pat on the back was only a fool’s goal. The real goal is in the act of doing and accomplishing.

By working hard, learning, and gaining, I am succeeding. I am getting somewhere.

With this realization, I began to have a voice. I spoke up; but, to my disbelief, by speaking up, I ended up losing several connections that I thought the world of. All summer I lived in a struggle between what I thought was there and what really was there.

As the new school year began, those connections still remained mangled on the floor by my bed in a pool of tears. I started to believe that those connections would remain there but then I received a major accomplishment.

Obviously, the first people I wanted to tell was my partner and my mom but I also wanted to tell the individuals at the end of those crippled bridges. So did I? Nope.

I remained just as stubborn as those individuals who could not accept who I am and what I feel now. Yet, days passed and I found myself thinking back upon them more than I would like to admit.

It wasn’t until one morning I awoke and a voice over my shoulder told me to stop being stubborn and to focus on my own enjoyment that I realized I hadn’t quite learned to live in the moment just yet.

So here I am taking a long winding path to say that I am still learning and I am still hurting but I’m willing to mend. Only this time, it didn’t take fear to teach me this lesson but love.

As my day approaches, I can only hope that my out reached hand won’t be rejected; and once it is grasped those connections will begin to believe in me too. Because, at the end of the day, the life I’ve lived so far is not half bad. It has its ups and downs but more importantly it has its lessons. And it is with those lessons taught by the very people who destroyed those bridges that I have grown to believe in myself. So why not grow with me and believe in myself the way I believe bridges can be mended?

© 2015 Jessica Santos