Life As I Know It

I stood in front of the mirror and looked at all sides of the dress. A perfect (color non-existing-other-than-in-weddings) bridesmaid dress. A chiffon, one shoulder piece that I wont regret in wearing, when on the corner of my eye I observed a soon-to-be-bride stepping up to the platform, where she proceeded to twirl, mesmerized, while her company ooed and awed. I smiled at my mom and said “always a bridesmaid never a bride”. She looked at me puzzled partly because she doesn’t understand English and because if she did I’m pretty sure she’d give me the same look. Till I was 15 I had this innocent notion of love. I seriously believed you'd meet someone, you'd fall in love, and everything would end in a happy ending. After one too many fairy tales you begin to believe that love flourishes out of thin air and background music. That you casually bump into someone at your favorite coffee shop. Your coffee spills, and you both kneel down to clean, apologizing, both look up at the ...

Sitting a cross from each other on our way back home my best friend and I find ourselves immersed in conversation:   "I wish you could shop for men like you do shoes online or the perfect dress" My friend says looking up from a magazine. I laughed. "Even better. Narrowing down the search by category, color, size, and style." "And price!" she added. "Accompanied by a Disclaimer and the Return Policy" Sometimes we search for love the way we do clothes in a catalogue. We go on a quest to find the perfect guy who measures up to everything we want. We all want that perfect breathless fit. But it is in the search that we are often misled. We misread instructions, mistake the shape and colors, and find that what we ordered isn’t at all what we wanted to end up with. On paper anyone is a sweet talker and Prince Charming. But looks can be deceiving. Behind that wonderful face can be a heart that doesn’t know how to love. So we set certain standards...

Getting over a painful experience is much like crossing the monkey bars. You have let go at some point so you can move forward… It was a long and cold lazy afternoon.  I found myself immersed in conversation with my cousin. We were sitting in the living room across from each other when he looked up from his phone and simply asked: “How do you decide to give up on someone? How do you know its time to let go?” I sipped my chamomile tea and sighed. “I don’t think you give up on the actual person. I think we give up on the circumstance. Because if you love someone, you love them unconditionally. But we’re only human. I guess we just fail when our faith gets tested.” We fall in love with love at a very young age. We live content with hand picked daisies and heart shaped letters. We welcome butterflies, dreams, and ideals. We paint castles and ever-afters. We allow our hands to be held, our deepest secrets to be known, and we share our laughter and our sorrows. We open up the w...

It’s unbelievable how much things can change in a year – my friend said. I sipped my hot coco and smiled “Yea. Your whole world can flip around. The rug can be pulled right under you when you least expect it.” Imagínate lo imaginable y la vida te sorprenderá. My father told me that once. And its true imagine the unimaginable and life will out do you. One day you wake up and you find yourself missing the good old lunch box days. Standing on your fathers toes dancing and twirling. Sitting on your mothers lap. And that tight grip of your fathers hand of a time where nothing and no one could hurt you or break you. Getting older comes with its challenges. When your world turns upside down, in a matter of seconds you can lose your grasp on reality. We end up with more baggage than we can carry. And though we wish otherwise life doesn’t come with directions at every road, stop, or crossing. Personally, the past years have been a rollercoaster ride for me health wise. And I’ve lost many...

In the cookies of life, sisters are the chocolate chips! “Here” – my sister says as she gives me a cup of hot chocolate. “I added marshmallows.” “Thanks” I say as I sit up in bed to drink wiping off the tears. “Maybe this will help” She leaves the room and within minutes comes back with her own pillow and lays down right next to me. Hands me a box of tissues and turns on the TV and we proceed to watch an old Fred Astaire movie. She isn’t one of many words. But this is her way of saying I’m here for you. Growing up with her had its ups and downs. But I have to say moments like these I wouldn’t trade her for the world. We are very different her and I. Six years apart to be exact. She’s not emotional or an over analyzer. She’d rather you not hug her or kiss her. It’s her way. She’s always been that way. But in every tragedy of my life she is the one person that keeps me grounded. In the past two years she’s not only taken the role of my sister but also has become like a se...

The following story was requested. “ You say it’s easier to burn than it is to build. It’s easier to hurt than to heal. But I say you lose when you give up what you love…” She wore a red chiffon dress. She was of fair skin, hazel eyes, and red lips. Her beauty was eminent in an effortless kind of way. Her long dark brown hair was playing with the breeze as she stood on the pier looking out at the horizon searching among the skies for a bit of strength and comfort. There was a sadness, melancholy, way about her. You could see it in her piercing eyes. Her very bruised and beaten heart was one that beat slowly. No amount of sunshine could take the cloud over her away. She sighed deeply as the wind blew by reminding her of things she didn’t want to hear.   He came up behind her and stood right next to her like he’d been there all along. They didn’t touch or speak for a while. The eerie silence between them could be broken any moment if they’d only let their souls say what th...

Outside the sun is shining, it’s a warm cozy afternoon. The wind is blowing the most perfect sounds of nature. The street is filled with people united by their location divided by their attention. I’m sitting in my front porch, with my legs stretched long in front of me, leaning back, resting on my palms. I’m looking at my niece play with our dog coco. Coco seems tired and worn out and it only takes for my niece to pull his hair for him to get mad enough to try and bite her hand. And there at 6 o’clock in the afternoon, on a street filled with kids playing and mothers immersed in conversation… My niece starts wailing. She runs into my arms and won’t stop crying. Even though the dog but snapped at her, in that moment, the shock, startled this little girl enough for her to cry as if her life depended on it. Everyone rushes to her and within minutes of my dad’s silly jokes and faces she starts laughing again. And just like that it’s over. She’s moved on to the next moment. If ever...