My Latest Feels-y Song

'Cause you're the reason I believe in

something I don't know... 

Sweetest Downfall

I wish (as usual) that life was like a movie. But it's not.

In the movies, honest motives and deep emotion are their own excuses, and "doing what's right" is boring.

But in the real world, I can't afford to throw logic to the wind and drop everything for a who-knows-but-who-cares. I wish I could. I really, really wish I could. But that's not me. I always do the right thing. Because in the end, it is the right thing.

I always feel for the characters in movies that are faced with decisions that will hurt people they care about. But I still yell at them through the screens. Just tell them! I think. Tell them that you're only doing this for their own good! Don't hurt them and not tell them why. 

I'd never do that. 

And yet here I am, hurting people in the name of doing the right thing. Being the monster that has to be the one to do it even when they don't want to.

And the one who then walks away crying.

I really shouldn't have judged those movie characters.

Dear Marco Beltrami,

Of course. You genius.

How could I not have seen it before?

Here I was replaying and rewinding and it was right there. And though your glorious concoction of strings does wonders for my overactive, cinematic imagination, at the end of the two minutes and three seconds it's just sound. I'm still just sitting at my computer or huddled under my covers, and haven't really just experienced the pure magic I saw played out behind closed eyelids.

I guess it took that many replays for me to finally recognize that the very title is telling me to do what the whole thing has me wanting.

Sorry for taking so long to catch on.

Dear Inevitability,

If you've had enough say when...

Dear Churning Stomach,

What, are you surprised? It all went, surprisingly, almost exactly as you imagined.

Well, right up until the very last moment.

But who were we kidding?
You couldn't have handled it anyway.

Losing My Victoria's Virginity

So I took a trip to Victoria's Secret yesterday. Yes, for the first time.

What?

Anyways, the moral of the story is that my time was divided between gaping around and whispering, "This is a beautiful place", dropping my umbrella and 5 other bags everywhere, accidentally pulling out the drawers of $60 lingerie, squeezing the memory-foam linings of everything, and basically not acting like the sexy babe that store promises to make you.

But hey, I walked out with that little telltale pink bag (pictures of which were quickly Snapchatted to a female friend for proof) and a free fragrance sample, so I called it a win.

To the Man With My Future Last Name,

The fact that you will replace my father for the spot of "#1 Guy in Abby's Life" is nothing short of spectacular. If there's one thing I cannot wait to shake my head in wonder at, it's you sitting at my kitchen table, sharing a cold one with my dad and chuckling over the corniest of jokes.

It's that kind of picture that gets me through nights like these.

Because it's absolutely disheartening to have to trudge through all these years of cringe-worthy interrogations, several maybes, and worst of all, plain old waiting.

But it's incredibly relieving to think that one day, the man who has to meet and ask every guy friend I hang out with where we're going, who's driving, and what time we'll be back... will one day give his full approval to someone like you.

But just to help you out:
-He love, love, loves golf.
-He doesn't like clutter on the stairs.
-The day of the Fantasy Football Draft is set-apart for nothing else.
-If you see his sunglasses anywhere besides his head, return them. He's probably looking for them.

Sorry I can't be more helpful. If you see this, know that I've witnessed a pretty impressive example of a man.

But I'm sure you will amaze as well. :-)