Chapter Two

It's been a while. Too long. So much has happened in such a short time since being back at Gordon, and I don't even know where to begin. Adventures! Friendships! Theater classes! Improv! Sophomore year hit the ground running.

Let's talk about the woods.

I've been spending a lot more time out here lately, thanks to my slightly lighter class schedule and awesome weather. There are so many more trails behind campus than I realized! Often, I'll go out in the morning only intending to find quiet nook to read in for an hour, only to stumble out mid-afternoon with pine needles and flowers in my hair, exhausted and happy, having discovered 3 new favorite spots. I'll explore, read, listen to music, and sometimes picnic. Occasionally I'll venture out with one or two adventure companions, but mostly I just explore on my own. It's awesome. 

Speaking of friends, I gained a whole new group when I made it onto Gordon's improv troupe, the Sweaty-Toothed Madmen! Seriously, these 8 people are the coolest; it's a privilege to be counted as one of them. Aside from the fact that they all have awe-inspiring talent and our rehearsals consist of dancing around onstage and pretending to be chicken farmers or dentists or royalty, they've all become like family to me immediately. We go on McDonald's runs at 1am and have photoshoots and a group text and movie nights. It's no big deal. 

Other than that, life is a lot of things. It's rehearsing in practice rooms for Musical Theater and sprinkling cinnamon on customer's drinks at Chester's. It's Monday night hot chocolates with Austin and Friday afternoon tea-and-reading-time on the beach with Josh and Merisa. It's making Cate and I's third-floor room in Wilson (affectionately dubbed The Birdhouse) look as adorable as humanly possible with coordinating comforters and fluffy pillows and yes, a tiny birdhouse that we are going to paint and hang on the door. It's letters from Madison at New Tribes and phone calls from Mom after class and new friends and old friends. It's the great exhilaration of starting new things and comfortable warmth from picking up old ones. 

In conclusion, sophomore year is the best and I can't wait for it to be cold. 

Oh, and here's the most recent awesome song I've found:

I love this feeling,

but I hate this part...

The Difference Between High School and College

Orientation ended back in late August and I was suddenly in the midst of that world that everyone talks about, the world that's the setting for many a film, the one I've heard will have the biggest impact on me than any other in my life. I don't know what I was expecting, but a few things have surprised me about it in the best way possible, and awakened me to the liberating reality that I do not miss high school one tiny bit. (Good thing I didn't get attached.)

-Staying up till 3 on a Tuesday night is a normality, but not because you're torturing yourself over homework. It'll be because your group spontaneously decided it was time for a Harry Potter marathon, or an impromptu trip for doughnuts and pizza before engaging in a high-stakes Nerf war in the dorm basement. Speaking of which...

-I have a group. I've never had a group before. I've had one or two friends in several different social spheres, but never a pack of my own. We have a group text to coordinate family dinners. What on earth?

-But that doesn't mean they're my only friends, either. I can't go anywhere without encountering at least 5 people that I have to say hi to and possibly hug, and how's their week going and that's a great sweater and we should hang soon and it was great to see you for the third time this week. By no means am I wildly popular, but I have more friends than I've ever had and it's kind of awesome.

-When you want to see someone, you can just... walk to their actual bedroom and start a conversation right where you left off the last one. I don't just go to school with these people. I live with them. They are intertwined into every aspect of my daily life, essentially making them my family. When I was home for Thanksgiving, I had the strange realization that outside of college, when you want to see a friend, you just have to... wait... until the next time you see each other.

-All those things that I cared about in high school? The completeness of every mundane homework assignment, whether or not so-and-so liked me or was mad at me or cared if I did anything, how impressive my transcript or extracurriculars looked? None. Of. It. Matters. No one talks about what scholarships they got, who was valedictorian or class president, or any of that. It's the best thing that could have happened, because I hated caring about that stuff to begin with.
Even to the most dedicated, high-stress college student, at the end of the day grades are just grades. 
Everyone understands that the things we remember about college won't be academic-related. For someone who's been an overachieving perfectionist their whole life, it's a freedom like no other.

-On a related note, all the prexisting requirements for "cool" are almost nonexistent. There is almost no fame attached to the members of student government, star athletes, people whose parents have a pool, the hot girls who have more friends than all the other girls. Being who you are is cool, and being different doesn't make you an outsider. It feels like a slap in the face to the people that "mattered" in high school for those other reasons, and for some sick reason I love it. I don't miss them.

-I don't even miss the kids I talked to every day, the ones I genuinely liked. Occasionally a faint memory of my few best friends comes to mind, and perhaps I wish they were with me, but that's it, because I don't want to leave where I am, even for them. Is that absolutely terrible? On the other hand, if I go a couple days without seeing my current friends, something feels horribly wrong. It's true what they say, about which friends you keep forever: it's the ones you meet in college.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When new people ask where I live, I don't say Virginia. I say Massachusetts. It's sort of unbelievable, but this is my home now. Which is problematic, since college is by definition an impermanent thing. But this will be the longest I've ever been in one place, and I think I'm okay with that. I'll stay a while.

Weekend Hypocrisy

In the most joyous moment of college thus far, I got a lead in my first college show and cried in my dorm as the awesomeness just rolled over me. I feel like it's important that that's been acknowledged.

Other than that...

I have a roommate who likes Netflix marathons at 9:30pm. I have a cool girl named Elise that likes sleepovers when one of our roommates is gone and having weird crushes on people and will eat with me even if she has to say hi to six people before she makes it to my table. I have a squad of 4 guys who eat enough for 3 people at every meal and mainly sit around their room listening to rap music, but sometimes they let me sit in there with them. I have a group text full of my La Vida girls that will sometimes cause my phone to light up when one of them asks if I want to eat a meal with them. I have an adopted older brother that will get a late-night chocolate with me at least 3 times a week and talk about life. 

Those people are the ones that have kept me going. But on the weekends, when they're all either off-campus or hanging out with other people, I end up walking around campus aimlessly wishing I had more than 3 numbers in my phone, or going for a walk around the pond because "I really just wanted some alone time anyway."

The truth is, I'm lonely most of the time. And I'm tired of people telling me to find friends instead of actually being my friend. It forces me to follow impressive people around and wait for them to tell me I'm cool rather than just calling up someone and going to the mall at a moment's notice. 

Note to sophomore/junior self: Don't you dare be too cool to be friends with freshmen. Most of them don't have cars, and they desperately want someone to drag them off campus, and if you treat them like adults they won't act like kids. But having a superiority complex will only cement you inside your boring circle and make the people that deserve friendship feel like they're not worth the time. 

Because that's what keeps running through my head. I'm just not worth the time. 

Update

I'm eating a bag of pretzels in a comfy library chair, listening to Spotify next to a backpack of my (nearly) finished homework, feeling like the cool, casual, studious quintessential college kid that I undoubtably am.

I have a gorgeous, mint green bike with a basket. I have bags of tea and a hot water heater in my dorm. I have lots of sweatshirts. I have friendly and crazy intelligent professors. I have access to relatively delicious food. I have dozens of acquaintances. I have a gorgeous woodland path where I can retreat at any time.

I don't have envelopes in which to seal letters home. I don't have the willpower to go to the gym. I don't have the bravery to email the sophomore RA dude that yes, I am interested in all-hall worship. I can sing. I can kind of sing. I don't have the confidence to dress exactly the same every day and gaily bounce up to people I don't know. I don't have air conditioning in my room. I don't have a church (yet).

I don't have friends.

But I have a lovely roommate, a bed, clothes, woodland paths, and God. So those will tide me over. The rest remains to be seen.

Stay tuned.

Into The Light

A wise person once told me that the question is not who are you, but rather, who are you today? Over the past couple days, I've discovered that it's become something like- who am I this at this particular moment? Do I like them? More importantly, who else might?

For example, an hour ago my favorite song was Simple Song, yet as I walked back to Fulton a few minutes ago I couldn't think of any tune more lovely than Any Way. This morning, I was a girl without glasses with a perfectly placed side braid, but tonight I was an adorable, glasses-wearing free spirit who wore loose sweatshirts and untamed wavy locks.

But somewhere in between the worship jam sesh and tedious trek back up the hill, I discovered that maybe these miniature facets and personalities of Abigail Erdelatz are only hints at who she is truly becoming, and the final picture may include all or none of the rough drafts.

Because there are like-minded friends, and there are like-hearted friends. And the like-minded ones may love one of the rough drafts as if it's the final project, but it takes a like-hearted soul to see through the revision process to the masterpiece that is yet to be. These are the souls that will then help pull such a masterpiece into the light. The ones that lift the burden of the rough drafts. The ones I hope to find.

Have I found any such gems of human beings? It remains to be seen. But I have a slightly less foggy picture of what to look for, and that's something to rejoice over, isn't it?

Post-Senior Banquet Profundity

So... I didn't win the senior superlative for Most Likely To Be a Superhero. Frankly, I'm not entirely surprised, so of course I clapped and smiled for Maggie Butters and reminded myself that it's only a popularity contest anyway. I told myself to stop caring about whether people thought I was cool.

But since then I've had a revelation. I wasn't upset that people don't think I'm cool enough to win a superlative. I'm scared of being forgotten.

I want people to remember me. I'm not talking about my friends who shared memories with me and will keep in touch and all that. I know those people will remember me- duh. I want other people to remember me. Even if we only interacted a couple times, even if I never signed their yearbook, I want them to remember me. Because I remember everyone. Everyone that had some sort of profound instance of interaction with me, no matter how minute... I remember it. I always have.

It seems a great cosmic injustice to disregard the fact that someone added meaning to your life in some way, so I remember everything and everyone. And if I ever went out of my way to attempt to add some small amount of happiness to your life, I want you to remember that too. It makes me cringe to admit that I want people to wonder, but it's discouraging to think that they won't. It diminishes the fact that those moments happened.

So to all those whose yearbook I never signed, or even those that just wrote a few cliche lines: I will remember you, and think about you at the most arbitrary of moments. I am easily affected by people who catch my attention for no good reason at all. I fixate on the barest hints of connection even if it turns out to be nothing at all.

To those that gave me nothing, who never acknowledged my existence in the least: thank you for not giving me false reason to hope. It simplifies things. Adds a degree of certainty.

But to those who almost did - who glanced my way for even small moments, added your two cents, and then turned away without solidifying your significance- you have power without measure. You have made me wonder, and it kills me to wonder. You will forget the time I talked to you, and I won't, and even though that's completely inexplicable and means nothing, to me it's sad. Just a little.

So you, whose outfit I complimented or who offered me a ride or shared a joke or helped me review for a test. Never be afraid to leave people with a final remark, even if it seems stupid. Solidifying significance is never stupid. Without it, I wonder.

Candid Wisdom and Wit

Inspired by dearest Olivia's perfect blog post today on finishing a John Green novel, I decided to share a few quotes said by the people who choose to grace my life, and maybe you all will realize why I pretend to be witty and wise (because compared to these people, I'm not).

"Falling in love with book characters is not so incredibly pathetic as it seems. It means that the reader is enjoying and loving something completely abstract, and that is a unique, advanced characteristic requiring a great deal of thoughtfulness and understanding. " 
-Olivia Parvin

"I think in poetry and colors and bits of sound and it really is beautiful, having the mind of a writer, but sometimes it just really hurts." -Coree Stuart

"I'm really good at things that don't matter." -Marshal Nichols ... (Not particularly poetic, but I thought about it for a while, and the longer you think about it, the deeper it gets.)

"We live in a culture where everyone is encouraged to 'be different, be yourself'. With everyone trying so hard to be different from everyone else, it's hard. But you're one of the few genuinely unique people I've ever met." -Ali Thomas

 "You can go anywhere and have the power of the one true living God inside you. And that makes you pretty darn mighty." -Dave Hutchings

"You always try so hard to make your life like a movie. But you're already like a movie, you don't have to try." -Matt Zimmerman 

And last but certainly not least, my all-time favorite, by the author of a hundred nuggets of wisdom. This has come back to me hundreds of times over the past few years. 

"Dear 4am,
The scariest things we submit ourselves to are hardly ever spiders or snakes or clowns. To me at least, the greatest fear is found in those moments in which you allow what people think of you to be replaced with who you are. And knowing that where you stand with them is inevitably going to shift." 
-Sarah Labanc

Chills.

All of these, though. Gosh. I live surrounded by poets. 

[Author's Note: If you come back to this post in days following, there may be some added. I can't think of any more right now, but I know they're floating out there in my mental universe. They'll come to me later.] 

Green Plastic Disc

There is something so childlike and freeing about flying down a slope of white powder, not caring about how the freezing spray is making your face look, not caring about how girly your shriek sounds, not caring about what awkward body parts are going to hit the drifts in what kind of pile with those around you.

You can't just not love sledding. The most dignified of people look like complete fools when they're sledding. It's the best.

And there's a moment at the bottom of the hill, before you make the thigh-aching trek back up the hill, before you even wobble to your feet to brush the powder from your coat, where you're just laying there after the limb-flailing landing. You give your breath a minute to settle and just enjoy the childlike exhilaration. Maybe you stare at the newly forming constellations, or your frosty ghost of a breath in the air, or at your friend's pink-nosed and grinning face. But in that breathlessly blissful moment, there's just nothing to worry about.

It's just perfect.

That's why I jump up and down in front of the windows and beg everyone around me to go outside in the snow. You can't just not go sledding.

Update:

I'm going to a church retreat this weekend with a bunch of senior girls I've never met.

I gave a sweet sophomore girl my number between classes this week and told her to call me.

I've made a new friend that looks promising.

So, in essence, I'm pursuing some people.

But:

I have no one at school.

It's still kind of a waiting-on-God thing at this point to see if any of this stuff actually works out.

I'm realizing that I need to cut back on some relationships, and it's hurting.


This is hard. 

To Those That Get It,

This is one of those trust moments where I'm placing part of me in the hands of who-knows-who.

I've heard that when you're a Christian, your relationships with others should be like a cross. You've got people above you pouring into you, people below you whom you're pouring into, and those on either side who are there with you, and you all pour into each other.

Well, my 'cross' has been pretty lopsided as of late.

I noticed it a little while ago that I really didn't have too many close friends, but it really hit me when I realized that I had even fewer Christian friends.

And today when I was venting to my mom and absolutely broke down, I realized that this is not something to be taken lightly. It's a real struggle, and a real need.

I have some scattered Christian friends in my area at the moment. Excluding my family from back in Okinawa, there are a handful of people that I see occasionally that are genuinely life-giving, and pour into me like Jesus.

But in my daily life, like-hearted people are absolutely scarce.

Oh, I have a few friends that call themselves Christians, and some even act like it. But like-hearted is something very rare. And I'm realizing that trying to get by on.... the relationships I have been... is not working.

I can feel this huge hole in my life. And as it widens, I can sense the world trying to fill it. I notice myself being tempted to fill it with temporary things. It's scary. I'm trying to respond by simply spending more time with God. That helps, of course. But there is a definite place where Godly, life-giving relationships are designed to fit, and that place is nearly empty.

Yes, this is teaching me to rely on God more. Immensely. In a short time, I've made amazing discoveries on how to bring His Presence into my daily routine and have seen incredible joy come from that. I know I need to depend on Him for my joy, not others.

But as my mother comforted me today, she reminded me of the truth: to be loved is a God-given need. And there's nothing wrong with needing human relationships, because sometimes those are the venues by which God blesses us.

So okay. Here's why I'm saying all this on the Internet.

I'm done hiding this. I'm done hiding the fact that there is a gaping hole in my heart and in my life. It won't get better until I am honest about where I am.

To any readers that are Christians and know what I'm talking about:
Prayer could not be more needed. I cannot under any circumstances go through this life alone, and so if nothing else, pray for more of His Presence. (But some friends would be nice too.)

To any readers I have yet to become properly acquainted with: 
Say hi to me sometime, please. Even if you're not into the whole Jesus thing, I could use a few kindred spirits. It helps more than you realize.

Let your kingdom come in this world and in my life...

....Your love is strong....

The Truth About Matt Zimmerman

(Inside jokes will be bolded for your convenience)

They've shipped us, they've gossiped about us, they've pretended to know all about us, individually and together. But they've never gotten the truth, the full truth.

Okay. Here it is.

I met Matthew last year, as one of my first three friends at Colonial Forge. I knew immediately he was a cool kid, I just didn't know the extent of his coolness yet. Several (okay, a couple) people would keep telling me,

"You should, like, date Matt- you guys would be, like, good together." 

Of course I wasn't about to go for that, not at such a rough point in my story. But for the first awful year in Stafford, he stayed a loyal friend. He shared my love of cool words (high five for vocab), we thought the same weird people should randomly date (can we ship that?), and most of all, he was the only person I saw on a regular basis who fully appreciated who I was really trying to be.

So then, in late April, as many know, I finally gave in and realized I was unlikely to find anybody else like that. So we dated. (crossed eyes, apple juice, chocolate chip cookies, Pacific, can we ship our own relationship?)

And duh, it was pretty epic, if I do say so myself. People I'd never spoken to would come up and tell me they'd wanted us to get together since, like, forever. It was actually kind of cool.

But of course, towards the end of the summer, we broke up. What happened was....well, I don't need to put everything out there. I will say that we both knew we were going to have real priorities for senior year, and we promised to stay friends....great friends.

And I was skeptical about this. I hated the idea of seeing him no longer as my buddy, but as my... ex-boyfriend. Ugh. That's an awful term to assign to someone.

But to this day, I'm shocked and amazingly proud of how we handled it. We stayed friends, and became BETTER friends. Like, best-buds-for-life-friends. Um. Who. Does. That.

Oh, and did I mention that he became my official brother in Christ at Rockbridge, in one of the most dramatic answered prayers I've ever witnessed.

And it's never been awkward. (Well, not seriously.) He calls me after he goes on cute dates to bookstores with adorable girls, and I fangirl like they're my favorite TV couple and start planning my toast at their wedding. And whenever I text him screenshots of things cute boys have said to me, he immediately responds with: "Can he just ask you on a date already."

You think I'm kidding

And our conversations. Are. So. Darn. Funny. We have the weirdest sense of humor when we type. And when we get going on a metaphor, we can't stop using it.

Talking about "the show" went on for about four more screenshots

And though we've disagreed on many things, we don't really fight. Neither of us are confrontational, so when we ever get close to seriously disagreeing on something, one of us brings it up and we have a long talk about it, which inevitably ends with us realizing it was stupid. 

How he resolved our last disagreement and yes it worked

In all seriousness, I've never had a friend like him before. Oh, I've had people that I can tell anything to, and that understand what I'm thinking before I say it, and who I have a never-ending arsenal of inside jokes with, and who has a million little things that bug me but I overlook them because they pale in comparison to the awesome things.

But I've never had someone who takes care of me when I can't do it for myself. Who recognizes when I'm too cowardly or weak-willed or afraid to do something, but help me do it anyway because they know it's the best for me.

And the moment I realized I did, I started thanking God for a friend like him. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Matt,

Thank you for never stopping being my friend. Thank you for always caring about what I think, and not being afraid to say when I'm being stupid. Thank you for continuing to look at me and geek when our most sacred ship is in a room together. Thanks for being the only one to notice when I wear eye makeup, and immediately knowing the reason why. Thank you for having more faith in me than I do in myself, and refusing to be realistic about your expectations for me. 

Don't ever make excuses for yourself. Don't ever change for someone. Don't ever comprimise. Don't ever.

You have no idea how extraordinary you are.

Love, the brown-eyed girl from a hotel hallway (Not in that awkward way though-you get what I mean.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So to everyone that's made assumptions:

-His one-act play is not about me. 

-He is totally, completely, without a doubt, STRAIGHT.

-We do not have a constant "thing" for each other.

-He's a best friend to me. So there. 

Why I Stare At Beautiful People

I observe people a lot. I like to watch their hair, their smiles, the way their eyebrows give away their emotions.

It's always when I'm looking at particularly put-together people that I have this realization, and it never fails to startle me.

Everybody cries. 

Everybody gets lonely. 

Everybody something inside them that's sad and cold and it's something that they hide from the world. 

Like....woah.

Do you ever think about that?

Because it's true. The more I get to know people, the more I realize that it's true.

And so when I look at people, sometimes I try to see that thing that they're hiding. Like everyone has this broken secret inside them that if I look hard enough, I'll see. Of course, I never see. Several times, I've befriended someone and gotten to know them, and all the while I've wondered if I'll ever see their secret pain.

Some people, I never do.

And some, when I do, I wish I hadn't because it feels intrusive to have a secret that's so clearly theirs.

Other times, it's breathtaking and heartbreaking and incredible that someone so....neat.....has something like that inside them....

....but suddenly, I love them so much more for it.

And because of that sad, broken thing, I see the whole world a little more clearly.

That's why I love observing people. I imagine what it would be like to be friends with their secret, and maybe make it not so broken anymore.

Secrets

Best feeling ever: When your friend scampers up to you, giggling, and tells you there's some awesome news about you that they're dying to tell you about.

Worst feeling ever: When your friend scampers up to you, giggling, and tells you there's some awesome news about you that they're dying to tell you about....but...they...can't.

Um.

No.

Because as soon as the words I can't tell you come out of someone's mouth, everyone's mind always jumps to the one thing they hope to be told. Whatever thing they lay in their beds at night and dream about being told. They think of that.

It's not that, is it?

Oh my gosh. What if it is.

It's probably not.

But wait.

Tell me now.

Remember when I posted 10 things about myself I hated? Remember #10? That I always have to know stuff. Well, case in point. Future husband, don't ever tell me something unless you're actually going to tell me.

In a nutshell: this is too excruciating to bear. It feels as if those four words triggered some unknown organ to kick into overdrive, and now it's about to burst from my skin. I can feel the anxious pressure from inside my bones and ligaments and now it's threatening to make me explode, and little frantic pieces of Abby will come raining down on everyone's heads.

People I Miss

Bailey Lisk- I keep wanting to Skype you, and I keep being busy, and I feel awful because I don't deserve such a wonderful friend as you.

Coree Stuart- I missed Skyping Tuesday today, didn't I? I can't stand myself sometimes.

Rebecca and Josh Cooper- Is it a little pathetic that you guys are 40% of the reason that I'm applying to the University of Chicago? I really want to see you again.

Dave- You're still one of the only people in this entire world that can get me to say exactly what's really going on with me, talk me through it, and then pray over me so well that I start crying without knowing why. You are my biggest spiritual mentor. Ever.

Olivia Parvin- Your birthday is tomorrow, and I AM going to send you a good present this year, because every year you send the best presents imaginable and I feel like a terrible person because I don't deserve you or your awesome presents.

Madi- I need you to come over and sit on my bed with me so I can vent and then we can put on footie pajamas and scamper down to the basement and dance wildly. That's what I need right now.

Zach Tillapaugh- I keep remembering that taxi ride in Bangkok, where you suddenly stopped laughing and said this might be the last time the three of us saw each other. And you were right. I hope we can go next summer. Like, more than anything.

Bethany West- I am going to respond to your letter. I promise. I've already responded, actually. I just haven't sent it. You are one of the best people I've ever known. You deserve a good letter.

Ms. Deakins- There will never, ever, be another drama mother. You were it.

Mr. Coia- I still daydream during Creative Writing that you're going to walk in and find me, and read my writing and do your funny hand gestures and remind me why I wanted to major in English again.

Aaron, Alex, Tristan, and Mikey- You guys probably don't even remember me. But I remember you too well. You're all so impressive. So funny. So witty. I will probably always be attracted to Alex's written eloquence. I need great kids like you in my senior class. Seriously.


All my best friends. All my future bridesmaids. All the people I met and immediately realized I could hang out with for the rest of my life. The ones whose smiles, laughes, eye colors, and mannerisms I remember by heart.

I miss you.

Can I go back now?

Conviction

I'm writing this down and putting it here so I don't forget it.

Every Sunday, I finish up steaming milk and pouring mochas in Noah's Cafe, and after grabbing my satchel from the wicker basket under the counter, I walk into the worship center of Mount Ararat midway though the singing, quietly accept a worship bulletin from the usher, and check my phone for my dad's text of where my family is sitting.

And every Sunday, as I listen to Todd Gaston unpack Scripture in new and amazing ways, I can't get certain people out of my mind.

I can't stop thinking: I wish _____ was here SO much. This is exactly what they're going through right now. I'm going to invite them to come with me sometime. They don't even realize how encouraging it is.

Every week this happens. And more often than not, the same people come to my mind every week.

And I'm not doing anything about it.

I'm sitting here, praying for them, and praying for God to bring someone else into their lives to build them up, and you know what? The uncomfortable truth might just be that He already did, and it's me.

If that's the case, why on earth am I still just sitting here?

So anyone who reads this: hold me accountable. Next time we talk, ask me what I've been doing to reach those people. Ask me if I've talked to them.

Because the things I'm hearing every Sunday are too good to keep all to myself.

My Twin, Coree

Coree: A note to Abigail

When I need to be picked up, I just read this.

For anyone that doesn't really know what my life was like before I was here, this was it.

I miss it.

I miss my friend.

I love you too, dear.

Us Humans

Something I'm learning a lot lately: It becomes impossible to make assumptions about someone (or judge them) when you've heard their stories and seen their pain. 

This became incredibly relevant at Younglife camp, where during cabin time we would all share what was going on in our lives, and where we needed God to step in. Everyone opened up, and we all got to hear some heavy stories. Heck, I talked about things I swore I wouldn't bring to the table.

The whole time, I felt a mixed sense of amazing companionship with these girls while also being incredibly convicted. Half of these people I'd judged before! Or at the very least, I'd seen them in school and thought, wow, they just have it all together, don't they. 

But no one does!

In fact, some of these girls had looked at me and thought the same things.
Me. As if anyone could think I have my ducks in a row.

I'm amazed at the fact that the more I get to know the things my friends aren't proud of, the more I respect them. I judge them less. It isn't the other way around! Because now I see them in a more relatable light. Once we realize that we're all in the same boat- that we all have broken places in us- it's impossible not to love them even more.

I find this especially mind-blowing when it's people that I look up to. You know the ones. The people we all aspire to be like. The ones that exude this aura of self-assurance, or in some cases, God-assurance. Nothing can phase them.

But then you see them in their low moments too, and it's like the universe just hiccuped or something.

Wait, they're human too? 

Weirdly, it's not a loss-of-faith moment for me. It's relieving! And humbling. They've been there to see my screwups; the least I can do is be there to love them in theirs.

Musical Thank-Yous

Read it, guys, You may be mentioned in here.

Been meaning to do this post for a while, so heck.

My taste in music is relatively diverse, but not near where I want it. (In fact, I could REALLY use some new music right now.) But I am proud of a few things, such as:

-My 19 playlists, each for different moods/scenarios
-The artists I've found on my own and introduced people to
-Sleeping At Last is MY band. No one else has ever heard of them, and when someone has, I think I'll marry them. Not kidding.
-The absolute brilliance I've found through film soundtracks/scores

But to be honest, most of the best artists are always found through other people. So I need to thank the following people for bringing various music into my life.

Joie Darretta- my beautiful cousin, thank you for introducing me to Mat Kearney. Ships In The Night will forever be a jam, and loving Mat has helped me bond with so many others. Also, Sweet Disposition.

Kaleb Feltner- Changing by the Airborne Toxic Event. Also, the earlier Passion Pit.

Coree Stuart- WHERE TO BEGIN. Songs: Punching In A Dream, Take A Walk, 40 Day Dream, Whistle For The Choir, New Shoes, You and I, Hand Hold, Tongue Tied, You Always Make Me Smile, Worried Shoes (okay, your entire CD). Artists: Spoon, MGMT, I'm sure there's more.

Sarah Labanc- Your adventure music. New Earth by Zerbin, Bon Iver, Whirring by The Joy Formidable, He Is We, the songs on your tumblr, The Kooks... you are so musically diverse it kills me.

Cody DeVries- I'll Follow You Into The Dark. Enough said.

Bailey Lisk- That song called Bailey. Gah.

Common Ground- All of my current worship music.

The men of Common Ground- Downfall of Us All by A Day To Remember. *headbangs*

Alex Mutuc- The Avett Brothers, Iron and Wine. Okay, I only checked them out because you were into them, but boy am I a fan now.

Bethany West- The Vespers, Tender Love by Carl Cartee. Gah, the feels.

Phoenix Underwood- Gravity Rides Everything. Confession: I never got into any more Modest Mouse, but that song has stuck with me and helped the way it does for you. Also: Can You Tell by Ra Ra Riot and The Real of It by Said the Whale.

Ethan Duffy- Love Love Love by Avalanche City(oh my gosh it gets me). The Girl by City and Colour. Question by the Old 97's. Trapstep. Any song you showed me, I ended up loving. THE FEELS. And when you said you liked How He Loves...*shivers*

ABC's Castle- Pearl Jam, Jules Larson, Junior Senior, MoZella, so much more.

Winnie The Pooh, the movie- Somewhere Only We Know, and hence, Keane. Still my favorite ever.

Erik Olson- Mumford and Sons. I'd heard them, but hearing your performance of Where Are You Now got me really enthusiastic about their full albums.

Wendy Nguyen- Your use of Tim McMorris' songs in your videos got me into his (published) music. You're famous, so you'll never read this, but still.

Olivia Parvin- Owl City. I wouldn't be nearly as enthusiastic about him as I am now without your love of Adam Young. Also: The Hush Song, Helicopter by Branches (OH MY GOODNESS PERFECTION), half the songs on your blog.

Charissa Gerke- Your use of the song The King Beetle On The Coconut Estate by Mewithoutyou in your sermon was so, SO unique. It remains the most obscure yet meaningful song I have yet to hear, ever. (Hint: the fire in the song represents Christianity.)

Rachel Sumuray- Lindsey Stirling. Oh my gosh, now I'm obsessed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There are so many more. And honestly, the majority of my music/artists are from movies. 500 Days of Summer, Warm Bodies, etc.

But if you are on here, thank you. For culturing my life a little more. Keep it up.

To Honesty, Again

Another small tidbit about me: I second-guess everything. And by everything I mean, Ev. Ree. Thing.

It doesn't matter how steadfast I am in a decision; there will always be a small moment right before I take the leap when I can see the horrible what if play out and a small part of me decides it wants to back out.

Sometimes, if it speaks up early enough, that little part of me even wins.

But perhaps worse than second-guessing myself is when I doubt other people.

Maybe they said something nice a few days ago, but now? They didn't talk to me as much today. They've probably changed their mind about how cool or uncool I am. That must be it. They realized I'm not all that exciting and don't want a thing to do with me. I should leave them alone.

I once heard that if someone really wants to be friends with someone, they will make it happen themselves.

But is that really true?

You know back in middle school, or heck, even now, when Person A really has a crush on Person B, and so A tries talking B up all the time, and whenever A's like, "Hey! What's up?" B's all, "Oh, hey, how's it going," because B doesn't want to be rude, but A thinks that it obviously means B's into them too, so A travels down this dark road of misinterpretation with the inevitable result of their heart getting broken?

I feel like my whole life is like that sometimes, with me as the sucker who thinks people actually enjoy her.

Tbh.

Sunshine and Blue Eyes

It was a rather slow Saturday afternoon.

My hair was still wet from my shower, and I was passing time by watching my notifications on Facebook ping away after uploading over a hundred photos from Younglife camp.

Then I heard a knock at the door.

First thing you should know about me: About half my daydreams involve someone wonderful showing up on my doorstep out of nowhere.
So each time I hear someone at the door, I have to prepare myself for the inevitable downfall of it being not a long-lost friend or mysterious stranger, but just the neighbor or the UPS guy.

So I opened the door.
And there, wearing denim shorts and the hugest grin I'd ever seen, was.....Bailey.

Bailey.

The same Bailey that came with me to the airport on that fateful July 15th a year ago. The same Bailey that wrote me a two-page letter that had me sobbing on the plane somewhere over the Pacific Ocean. The same Bailey that was by my side for my first two years of high school, and one of the only people during those last 3 months to ever see me cry.

I remember gasping, vaguely. Then I just clung to her forever as she did her wonderful belly-laugh of pure joy.

Honestly, I was surprised I wasn't crying, but I think I was so unprepared that I only had room for one emotion: pure excitement.

For so long, I'd walked around my neighborhood, wishing I had an Okinawa friend by my side to take it all in with, so I wouldn't have to be alone. And here she was, walking the sidewalks to the park with me and sitting on my bed and eating pudding in my kitchen and suddenly 370 days felt like five minutes.

It was so surreal I just couldn't.

But thank you, thank you, thank you Bailey for surprising me. People like you are the best surprises in the world.

My face pretty much all afternoon