Secret Santa

Day 4

December 15, Thursday

Two days left before winter break.

I can't sleep.

My mind is running in a three hundred sixty degrees motion and I can't think straight.

This is definitely not insomnia but seriously I'm getting more dizzy and confused.

I don't know what I'm feeling right now but my heart is giving me sweet palpitations and butterflies started to flutter inside my stomach, in which I felt after I read the secret santa letter.

I never felt this way before, never in my life that my heart started to beat so fast that it seems like it's going to explode.

Never in my life, I felt something related about love. But wait, is this really love or infatuation? I only communicated with him through the letters that we exchanged and I don't have the slightest idea about his identity.

For me, this is still a mystery.

It makes me think that there's a possibility that I can be loved in the sweetest way. This boy who is behind the secret santa mask has already captured my heart.

Julie Dyers is in love with her secret santa.

***

I woke up early the next day, 5 a.m. to be exact. I went to our backyard to grab some fresh air and I was surprised when I saw my Dad there.

He was sitting on one of our backyard's stool and in front of him was a big white canvas.

"Dad, are you going to paint the sunrise?" I asked him.

Just like me, my Dad is an artist. I inherited my creative skills from him and he started painting when he was just a kid.

 Unlike any painters, my Dad was not famous. He doesn't have his own gallery and no one supported him except his family.

My Dad inspired me to do my own thing. Despite everything he had, he never gave up. It was his determination and optimism that led him to his dreams.

Even though my grandparents insisted him to push the medical path, my dad fought for it. And now I can see the contentment of his heart even if his career doesn't give that much.

"Yes sweetie, mind to join me?" I nodded and grabbed another stool in the storage house so I could sit beside him.

I watched him as he mix the colors of red, orange and yellow. How delicate it is to watch your father paint the sunrise. Not that I never saw him paint before but this feeling of being with him early in the morning and painting his first masterpiece of the day is like a significant moment.

"So, what made you wake up so early?" My dad asked me as he stroke his paintbrush into the white canvas. I watched his hands move with harmony.