Chris Santiago
Bio
I've always found a bit peace and release in putting word to written medium. I'm by no means an accomplished wordsmith but I find enjoyment in it. My love for writing started from world building that being a dungeon master provided.
Stories (12/0)
A Kiss
What is a Kiss? It's more than the release of a need. It's more than a lust of the moment, more than a simple physical embrace. When two hearts are completely vurnerable and opened to one another, it is the locking of those two beats. Each other feeling the embrace letting it guide their actions and reactions. Thoughts both full and completely obliterated at the same time. Although time passes it resides outside of this embrace, imperceptible to them. External sounds and sensations are all muted and melded together into a single inconsenquential hum. While the awareness of self and partner are heightened to a magnitude that is so blissful the thought of separation seems painful in itself, like a tearing asunder of your own being.
By Chris Santiago10 days ago in Poets
My Goodbye
I have always loved you. Whether you question that or not, it's never been in question. That also doesn't mean I don't hurt. I've come to realize that no matter what I say or do I'll never hold that spot of your heart reserved for another. I see now that when you decide something about a person there's no room or hope for change. If you've decided they are the love of your life, no amount of wrong doing or bitter words will change that perception for you. As well as if you have deemed a person has wronged you there's nothing that person can do to redeem themselves in your eyes. I sadly reside in the latter position. I know who I am, I know my thoughts, I know who I was. I'm proud of who I've become and the changes I've made. I'd like to say that they came too late, but I'm afraid it would have always been too late from the day I met you. Can you at least understand why I hurt and the depth of it. Whether you believe me or not I love you beyond measure. But you've never loved me, and you don't love me. And there's a constant presence of another whom you do. Can you understand just how much that hurts? Every day. You say that I don't love you that somethings change whithin me since you had an affair. You're right that somethings changed, but not that I don't love you. The innocence died, the ignorance that nothing bad could ever happen. I find myself at a loss at times because how do you expect me to feel after those realizations. Day after day we talk about how I messed up, how I wronged you, and how what I do or say now doesn't apply because you're stuck in then. Does trying even really matter at that point?
By Chris Santiago6 months ago in Confessions
The Mistletoe Accident
The two of them had just exchanged gifts out in the seated lobby with everyone else when Saqueesha decided she'd put all her things at her desk to get them out of the way of the party. She had gotten him a new watch band since his old one broke on his favorite watch. He had gotten her York peppermint patties and a Yoohoo because he thought he overheard her mention one time that those were part of a core memory for her. She turned the corner, walked down the overly-decorated-for-an-office hall, wondering how often he must be really listening if he remembered that one comment, and once her office chair was in view she realized she forgot her coat in the lobby. She quickly pivoted on her sparkly heels to turn around, unaware she was stepping on spilled eggnog. Her footing went out from under her completely, and Kristopor, who was trying to catch up with her to bring her coat, managed to catch her, but not before her head hit the doorframe. He asked her if she was alright and she responded saying she was embarrassed more than anything, just as she raised a hand to the back of her head and realized it was actually throbbing. As she stood upright he saw her wince and he assured her that they were alone so no one else saw, but suggested they go to the first aid station for an ice pack.
By Chris Santiago7 months ago in Fiction
Specs
“Reset your password?” The touch screen mockingly blinked rhythmically. This single moment was the culmination of years of sacrifice. I thought to myself in retrospect of all the horrible things I’d chosen to do, all of the people I’d chosen to hurt just to arrive at this point. I found solace in the fact that after this job I wouldn’t have to do this anymore, wouldn’t have to be this person anymore. I could retire in peace. The question was, did I have the fortitude to see this through? Did I have the constitution and willpower to do what was needed just one more time?
By Chris Santiagoabout a year ago in Fiction
The Candle
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Charles thought that was odd considering his uncle had been dead for over a decade, as he looked over his shivering family. His wife Karly and their two kids, Daniel and Bethany, were huddled beneath their one survival blanket soaked to the core from the previous mishap of losing their kayak and scrambling to the shore in the rising current. The river was behind them quite a way now and gazing up the rolling hill, the cabin loomed ominously what seemed miles away, especially in the oppressive gloom of dusk and the frigidly pelting rain that had beset them.
By Chris Santiago2 years ago in Horror
