The End.

This is the end of the road. The line in the sand. The metaphoric "crossing of the bridge" that all young people eventually make when they come of age.

No longer am I Abigail Morgan, small girl hiding behind big dreams and a pen. I'm me. That's all I've needed all along.

I have the best friends a girl could ask for. My girls: Kailey, my little sister, with whom I share a locket and a heart. Maddy, my twin in so many ways, with whom I will be living at MSU next year and enjoying the happiest years of our lives. Querida, whose eternal sunshine brightens my world. Chiquita, whose sass and smiles remind me of the person I wish to be. Cassie, my big sister, with whom I've formed a familial bond that can never, ever fade. And Pinks, who has been there even when I haven't been myself, to keep me laughing and to keep it real.

My boys: Brillito, my little spot of hope in the darkest of hours, the one who brings out the Abby that should've come out a long time ago, and helps me to grow in ways he may never understand. He and his daughter [my "niece," as I'm looking at it] are going to be part of my life forever. Disko, like me in so many ways that count and unlike me in all the best ways, my reminder that not everyone has to fit a mold. KS, with whom I shared a great year and a perfect summer--and whose letters and words will stick with me. The DI boys, always right around the corner...

My family: parents, brother, cousins. I am lucky and I am blessed. They've been here for me all along.

This is my reality. This is me. So long to writing in the middle of the night, to turning to secret worlds to save myself. I don't need it anymore. It was great while it lasted, and perhaps someday I'll come back, but for now I'm living in the real world. Where I belong.

Will I miss writing? Sure. Have I missed a lot of life? Yes, I have. Time to get back into it. I have loved, I have lost, and now I am choosing to live.

Still finding reality? No. Reality found. It's here, and believe it or not, I love it.

Thank you for three wonderful years. For what I assume to be the last and final time... Abby's out.

The Difference

I recognize the fact that I have not posted on here in thirty-five days. I also recognize that this is highly abnormal for me, nearly disgusting. I would like to mention that in these thirty-five days I have also not once touched my novels.

Oh, I've written. But it's been short and simple, little poems and pieces for my creative writing class and such. Nothing more, nothing less. I'm getting published again [poetry] and I find myself wishing I wasn't.

Not because I don't want to be. Not because I feel unworthy. No, I don't want to be published because pretty much everybody and their brother can get published for poetry and it doesn't mean anything to me anymore.

My novels do mean something. They're my babies. And do you think I'm close to getting published? Not exactly. The nearest I've gotten is having an editor read my first 40. She enjoyed it--always a good sign--and wants to continue reading...

But this post is not to be about writing. No, not one more word. I want to finally write about the transformation that has occurred in me since March.

In a matter of two months, I, Abigail Morgan, have changed. Not externally--I still look exactly the same--and not so much socially--still not a fan of lots of people from my high school--but emotionally, mentally, I'm different.

The difference? It's simple. I met someone who I can care about who actually cares about me too.

He's not my boyfriend, and he's not going to be anytime soon. For awhile I referred to him as my big brother, but pretty soon we both realized that I wasn't really a little sister to him. The running joke where we work [yes, we work in the same place, that's how I met him] is that he and I are going to get married one day.

And honestly? I wouldn't mind that one bit.

I know, you're reeling. Abby? Married? Psh. Never gonna happen.

Well, I'm different now. I've changed. Between Brillito [that's what I'm calling him on here] and graduating and even my changing group of friends, I've become a totally different person since my last real post.

Thursday was my last day of high school. Thank god. I'm so done with that place, all of its ups and downs and BS. It's totally not what it's cracked up to be. This Wednesday is prom, something I'm really excited for, and my good friend Danz will be escorting me in my princess dress. :] He's excited too, which makes me happy, considering that I didn't want him to feel obligated to go.

Next Sunday is graduation. YAY. Seriously, I can't wait to cross that stage. It's so thrilling to be freed from the mundane monotony...

My group of friends is tighter than ever. Kailey, Cassie, Pinks, Querida, Chiquita, Maddy, Lyrika, and Debbie--I seriously love them all. I would not be here if not for these beautiful girls. Their boys [either boyfriends or beaus] have been an integral part of my transformation as well, and I'm happy to say that as of right now, it seems like all our lives are in order. I love my sisters with everything in me and that will never, ever change, not even when some of us leave in August...

And then Brillito. Oh, mi brillito. My "little bright one." He has been so good to me, filling a hole in my life that I never even realized existed.

No one has ever before cared for me the way he does. It's beyond words, beyond friendship... I hate to use the word "love" because then everyone jumps to the conclusion that I'm "in love" with him, but I honestly think the bond I share with him is a kind of love. I tell him everything and he does the same to me, and something about the way we coexist works out without us having to change ourselves to match the other. We fit. Like puzzle pieces, only...better.

And he is not my boyfriend. Let me make this loud and clear. We are not dating, and we will not be dating anytime in the near future. He has a girlfriend and I would never, ever interfere with that, and he would never harm or disrespect her in any manner.

But it's nice to be woken up with a good morning and to fall asleep with a good night. It's nice to be told that someone loves you, no matter what mistakes you make or how mean you can be when you're cranky. He does that for me, and asks nothing in return--I don't have to try to be anything for him and it's wonderful. I can just be his Abby, and that's enough.

In the future, though, once I'm done with my first degree and he's gotten himself settled in the world, I could see us being more than just mutual, coexisting pieces. I could see it clear as day. Not now, because it isn't timed right and we don't feel that way, but maybe--just maybe--it could happen.

Yes, I think I may actually one day be married. Pick your jaw up off the ground, it's rude to stare.

I'm different. And I think the change is just beginning.

Abby's out. I'll be back soon. :]

SB09! and a Little Nostalgia.

So much has changed, and yet it's still the same: Four young girls standing on a warm beach, sunglasses on and cold drinks in their hands.

It's spring break of their senior year, and they're having the time of their lives.

Two days ago, that was us. We were together and smiling and warm and tan. Down in the Riviera Maya, a small strip of beach in Mexico where happiness comes in an all-inclusive package.

I've never been so relaxed in my whole life. So content. So perfectly at ease.

And we were together. That's what made the difference to me. The four of us got to spend some quality best friend time together before the whole world got turned upside down.

In four months, we will be separated. Probably for quite awhile. Cassie and I will leave for MSU, Kailey will go to Central, and Pinks will stay behind to go to U of D. We will be separated by miles and miles of highway...for the first time in our lives.

I don't know what I'll do without them. It's finally starting to hit me, the permanence of this transition. I won't be able to call Kailey at any time and jump in my car to see her. No more lounging out at Cassie's pool. No spur-of-the-moment shopping trips with Pinks. It'll all be over.

I'll be missing the others, too, of course. Querida and Chiquita will be staying here to go to Macomb, and I don't know what I'll do without them. All the friends I have in school will vanish off to various universities, and I may never see them again. My big brother Rojito--with whom I've become irrevocably close in the past two months--will be stuck here, too, going to school and working too hard for his own good.

It's going to kill me.

What about family? At least I'll be able to see them when I come home. There's no guarantees with friends, though. No promises, no nothing. It's going to be so hard.

Everyone will be so far away! The hour and a half drive will feel like years. I want to go so, so bad...but at what price? What am I willing to sacrifice? This is what I want, though, so I guess there's no limit.

Maybe I'll be okay. Maybe it won't kill me after all...

No, it will. I can already see it.

The future, my friends, looks bittersweet. And that's the reality I've suddenly found.

Back Again

Yes, I'm back. I know I was away for awhile... But quite a bit happened between then and now, so I've got a lot to say.

I turned eighteen last Thursday. Yes, I am officially an adult. :D To celebrate, while we were at States this weekend for DI, a bunch of us went to the casino... Totally worth it. We had an awesome time. :]

Speaking of DI, we took second this weekend at States and bequeathed our spot at Globals to the third-place team [because we can't go...senior week...total BS but we've gotten over it]. We were very excited to do so well, especially when we saw that we took first in IC--something we have definitely spent the past nine years earning.

So I'm excited. But I'm also very, very sad. DI is over. An entire era of my life, gone. It still hasn't hit me--I think it'll sink in sometime in May.

This post is for you guys. For the beautiful DI people who have made me who I am today. I love you all, and thank you for nine years of wonder, amazement, and hilarious fun.

I'll be back soon. The only reason I haven't posted is because I'm in creative writing...a class in which I expel all my creative juices, leaving me inspiration-less at nightfall. I swear, I'll be back more often now.

Have a great spring break--I'll be in Mexico. :D Finally, a chance to relax! :O

Walking on Sunshine

Things are starting to turn around for me. In life, I mean. I've been so happy today that people are actually asking me if I'm all right, because I sit and smile to myself without thinking.

If you know me at all, you know that that's not normal.

But I can't help it. I'm so happy.

And, like usual, when things go right for me, they go wrong for everyone else... Yet I don't care. Well, I care, it's just that I'm so caught up in being so happy that I can't really dwell or worry about all the other things right now. It isn't ruining my mood, I guess you could say.

I'm happy. I'm happy. Happy, happy, happy.

I hope things stay this way forever.

Contentment

I'm so happy right now, I could cry.

Does that make any sense at all?

I'm Going to be a Princess

By the way, I picked out my prom dress today. :D :D I'm absolutely in love with it:

It looks slightly different in real life, but you get the idea. I got the purple "amethyst" beading. I'm not normally a purple person, but it really looked good on me, so I went with it. :]

That's my brag of the day. Enjoy :]

Watching

Today, Querida, Kailey, and I all went to the Panera where Papa Burgundy now works, to visit him and check out the place. It's absolutely nothing like our Panera, which is a little strange, but it was awesome to see PB and our old GM again. Hearing their voices took me back to last summer, back when I was training and just starting to fit in...

Once we'd finished eating, we decided to watch people. Now, for the normal group of friends, people-watching is just a mildly creepy form of entertainment in which one finds humor in the bizarre habits of other human beings in a public venue. But ever since Kailey learned about my extra "emotional sense," she loves to test it out--preferably in crowded places.

This is how to conversation normally goes:

"Abby--Analyze me."

So I tell her what she's feeling. She looks me dead in the eyes, purposefully trying not to give anything away, to see how accurate I can be. And I analyze her.

When I'm done talking, she lifts her face, shakes her head once, and says, "You are so creepy."

Meaning, of course, that I was totally right.

And then she proceeds to select random people and asks me to analyze them, too.

"That guy in the blue shirt--what's he feeling?"

So I tell her. "Stressed. Something's bothering him, but it's way in the back of his head because he's trying too hard to focus on the sheer amount of stuff he has to finish by the end of today. He's worried, too, because he knows he won't finish. Oh, and he's a little wistful, too..."

The game continues until we've gone through pretty much everyone in the place. Querida had never seen this before, so she got in on the fun.

"Switch places with me, Abby, so you can see the guy I'm looking at, and tell me what he's feeling."

It went on for forever. It's really fun, actually. Once I focus on one single person and tap into their reservoir of feelings, it's too easy to read them, and I give my friends the chills when they realize that I'm exactly right.

Of course, I could be a little off. I have no way of knowing if I'm perfectly accurate, and I'd be willing to bet that there are many flaws in my methods. But then again, when they look at each person, my friends are almost always in agreement with my assessment.

"Oh my god, you're so right about that girl. She totally just flipped out over whatever she's working on. Oh my god, that's so creepy."

Welcome to how I spend my days. :]

In the Business

I feel so alone, and yet so...engulfed.

I wanted this. That's what I tell myself. I need this, this silence, this stillness. I need the reminder that there's more to life than what they all can feel.

But I feel alone, and although I may love it, I'm hating it right now.

I don't want all of them. Just some. I don't want everyone, just someone. Someone who can make my day brighter, instead of the other way around--the way it always is now. I can't have bad days. I can't have bad moments. No, I have to always be on top of things, because if I start slacking, their minds start going.

I have to be the one who pretends, or else the world will fall to pieces.

I am their system. I am the one with the words that can save, the words that induce healing in otherwise untouchable wounds. I am the one responsible for deluding them into thinking that everything can really be okay.

It's my fault. I'm to blame. I took care of them too much.

I took pity on the weak and tried to show them the way. It's really too bad I couldn't have carved a path for myself, too.

Maybe it's time to stop being selfless. Maybe it's time to take care of myself for a change. Forget what they think, what they feel, what they know--I need to care for me, and only me.

So no more pity. No more tending. I'm determined to become who I want to be, with or without the baggage attached.

And Then...

That place where insanity borders on action
I've booked a room for two, or three
You could join me if you'd like
I won't tell.

Maybe I'll bring someone else along
We're not anything like what they think
Brothers, sisters, people with pasts
You know me and I know you
I would never tell.

But I'm so scared
Scared that you'll open your mouth
That you'll tell.

Maybe a room for one would be better
Camping out on the insanity side
Right on the edge, leaning toward action
Crawling toward everything you fear
I can't tell.

Invasion

I feel cornered.

Have you ever felt that way? Like everyone around you has something to say and wants to be up in your face. Like that just want to tell you how to feel, how to think, how to function.

I know they care. But they're pushing me over the edge.

I need my space. My privacy. I know, that sounds a little strange coming from someone who's willing to put her words on the Internet, where literally anyone can access them and analyze her. But I don't care about anyone; I care about the someones. The people who know me and try to get into my head.

News flash: You can't get in. So just get out.

Ever feel like there are a thousand voices in your head? Like people just can't back off? Like they're stifling you, making you crazy, choking you...

Yes, that's where I'm at. Cornered like a crazy dog.

Ever feel like you just want to be alone? Alone with your own emotions, thoughts, and truths. Alone with the basic facts--that you're you, that they're them, and that the two will never be one.

That's what I feel. I want to be alone for awhile. It's not that I don't love them, or that they're not welcome in my life. It's that they're pissing me off.

I don't want to know that everyone cares. I already know who cares and who doesn't. I just want to be alone for awhile.

Just me. Abby. Without all the fluff and required caring. Please, just let me be.

Facelift

In case you haven't noticed, things are looking a little different around here. I got sick of staring at the beautiful Russian mountains and instead decided to replace them with piano keys. Naturally, the color scheme had to change too, so we'll be using this for awhile.

It's not my favorite--doesn't really flow that well--but for now, it's good. :]

I was going to type a big, long, elaborate post about how my ability to write has returned just in time to be squashed by a 18-hours-of-work weekend...but I don't think I will now. I'm tired, darn it, and I still have to read some Crime and Punishment before I crash.

So goodnight. Hopefully I'll have time to write on here again soon.

Hopefully. :/

Yes, I Got to Pet a Penguin.

I'm still sick. Same thing as two weeks ago. Yes, that's right--a solid two weeks of incessant coughing while feeling, for the most part, perfectly fine.

Other than the coughing, of course.

It just baffles me.

I didn't have school this week [wonderful!] so I spent most of my time with my sisters and Things 1 and 2 from work. I think I'm going to start referring to the two of them as Chiquita and Querida...just for the record...because that's what I call them in person. The three of us speak Spanish at work together...

It was nice to get out of the house this week. I don't get to do that often. Kailey, Cassie, and Pinks actually spent the night at my house once--something we haven't done in years--and although we crashed long before we used to, it was still a good time.

Yesterday I saw RENT again, this time with Anthony Rapp, a Broadway original cast member. Adam Pascal was supposed to be there too [the Roger that I named my car after] but, of course, he wasn't. Something about a herniated disc... I guess I can forgive him for that.

The day before, I got to play with the penguins at the zoo. It was AMAZING. They're absolutely adorable. One of them, a really fat one named Pudge, was totally attached to me, and although he never let me really pet him [feisty little guy] he sat and "preened" me the entire time. Apparently, he felt a strong urge to "fix my feathers," aka my shirt sleeve, my arm, and my hand. It made him happy, though, so I won't complain. :]

A younger one, a female named Molly, hopped right up on my lap and stared at my face. It was actually kind of intense, like she was attempting to pull thoughts right out of my eyes. They're very intelligent animals, each with their own personality and quirky characteristics. They even had their token crazy penguin--named Mad Dog--who literally skipped his way among the others and didn't fit in with them at all. It was hilarious. :P

So at the moment, I'm content. I would love to never go back to school, but I don't think my mother will let that happen. Three more months...three more months...three more months...

Abby's out.

"Don't Tell Me if I'm Dying, 'Cause I Don't Want to Know..."

[Quote from song "Angels on the Moon." Look it up.]

I feel like I have been run over by a large semi, probably carrying Hidden Valley Ranch [because it's my least favorite substance on the planet--so naturally that would be the truck that nails me] and driven by a drunk. I can't stop coughing. It's making me crazy. It's making my family crazy.

And it hurts, damn it. My ribs feel like they're shattering. I can't move too quickly or laugh or sigh or yawn or stretch without feeling like I'm being shanked [yes, shanked].

Why is it always me that gets sick?

On a happier note, I had an amazing day today, other than the whole dying-a-very-slow-death thing. My school does Sonnetgrams for Valentine's Day, and I volunteered this year to be a reader/singer. This would be an excellent time to remind you that I cannot sing at all. So I've never really tried to sing in front of a group of people...much less my peers.

But I did today, and I had a ton of fun. I'm not so bad when I'm with four other people [they counteract my sour notes lol]. I was very proud of myself. Singing for DI is one thing--nobody cares there, we sing all the time and it's never good--but this was different. Even though I was hacking up my left lung, I belted it out, and I felt good.

Oh, and we had donuts in Calc...played literary pictionary in English...did MadLibs in CW...and that was it.

I love the day before holiday breaks. Now I have nine days to relax and get my life back in order.

Hallelujah.




[PS. Happy Friday the 13th, everyone :D ]

Fostering Love

My mom came home with a tragic story today, the kind that I just have to talk about on here. The kind that alters your perspective on life.

A kid in her class had to be taken away by Protective Services today, a little boy whose mother had left marks on his back. Big marks, the kind that could never be an accident. He and his two sisters were taken after school, off to who knows where...somewhere safe.

And I feel bad. Not because he's finally away from his mom--she doesn't deserve those kids--and not because it was Protective Services that took them--the people were really wonderful, my mom says--but because they're probably going to go through hell for the next few years.

They'll be put in foster care; who knows if those foster parents will treat them well? Who knows if they'll even be together? You hear about cases like this all the time, and it's never really bothered me so much.

But now it does. This little boy needs love and care and hope, not temporary homes. He needs someone who will tend to his particular emotional needs. I doubt he will get that.

So I've resolved. Remember how I talked about wanting to adopt kids later in life? Well, I still plan on that, but I think I also want to foster. I want to be able to give sets of siblings the kind of life they deserve. They're just kids--they shouldn't be screwed over just because their parents are terrible.

I want to help. I've never felt so strongly about something, never so passionate about wanting to get involved. I want to change this. I want to make a difference.

I have resolved, and once I'm resolved, I rarely change. Here I go...

ESP in Overdrive

I have accurately predicted every single event today, and I'm not just bragging. I'm getting good at this stuff.

It's not about magic. It's not even the extrasensory awareness that I've been so blessed [and/or cursed] to possess [e.g. emotions to colors...ring a bell?]. It's just knowing people inside and out...even though I hardly know them personally.

They're all so easy to understand. If I do this, they'll do that. If I push this button, they'll react that way. I can manipulate them all.

And I hate myself for it. I know what I'm doing. I know exactly how to tell a lie, how to express a completely and totally false emotion in place of what I'm really feeling. I'm good at it. But the guilt that accompanies such manipulation of minds is astounding, and painful.

Yes, painful. It hurts me to see how easily people will believe me when I'm in one of my manipulative moods. Just like you feel bad for a defenseless puppy, I pity those upon whom I unleash my strength.

I shouldn't like this so much. I shouldn't really and truly enjoy making predictions and testing them on unknowing/unwilling victims.

But I do. Immensely.

So my apologies, world. I don't mean to push your buttons and make you do what I wish. It's just so much fun...

Catching Lilies

White sash, keeping close the
Secrets tucked into your waist
Thin as grass, swaying tall
Graceful even motionless;
Sandy dust on an eastern shore
Brushes your feet, your train
Shallow prints in changing grooves
Memories forever intact in film.

You're smiling
Smiling so wide, like you
Used to back when things were good--
Whole, beautiful, right.
Back when things made sense.
Never thought I would
See that again.

I miss you, missing you
Keeps me sane sometimes
Gives me something to cling to
(Purpose, if you will)
You're that unattainable beacon
That ribbon that just slipped
Through outstretched, grasping hands
The one we lost
In a turbulent sea
And never will regain.

I miss you.
A bond lies shattered
Fragments on the floor
Held fast by resentment
In your old house tonight.
I miss you...
Come home.