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  • dearabi

>The Art of Storytelling

>Last night, I got one of the most AMAZING emails ever. It read:

“That is what I get when I read your words. Like… I find myself falling in love with love. As if it were this great piece of historic literature on romance… or a brilliant movie in the same genre (romance). That has never occurred before in my life with random words. And it is very powerful and has such an influential impact. I absolutely love that it makes me think… feel… hope. It is rather marvelous Abi.”

Now I promise I didn’t share that with you to fish for more compliments due to my ever increasing ego, but rather because I am unbelievably humbled. Because with each flattering comment or heartfelt email I get, I am more and more grateful. And I’ll tell you why.

Growing up, I always loved writing. But it wasn’t until online social networking began that I became deeply touched by other people’s words. Before I found my own voice (and this thing called blogging) I would get chain emails with gems like Balcony Seats, and read inspiring MySpace headlines like, “Don’t wish it were easier, Wish you were better,” or, “Everything will be ok in the end. If it’s not ok, it’s not the end.” And whenever I’d read something that especially touched me, emotion would spill. I’d want to cry or laugh or break something. But what I’d really want to do was meet the author.

I wanted to meet the person be their friend and say, “Hey, get the fuck outta my head!” Or at the very least, give them a hug and say “THANK-YOU.” Thank-you for letting me know I’m not alone. Does any of this sound familiar? It should, because it’s some of the same things yall say to me. So you see, there is nothing special about me or this blog. There is nothing different between you and I.

Almost a year ago today, I was in probably the greatest depression I’ve ever felt in my life. I spent my Christmas with my mom watching Avatar, but before the movie started she ate at Mel’s. And I say she, because I could not eat. And had not eaten for 3 days. I felt hopeless. And thinking positive was synonymous to seeing a pig fly. So for me to get that email yesterday saying I gave someone HOPE of all things is RIDICULOUS to me right now. I repeat FUCKING RIDICULOUS.

I never let the comments I get from readers get to my head. NEVER. Because everytime you say that I’ve helped you, please know you’ve helped me as well. Everyday I am overwhelmed and appreciative by the fact I am able to evoke emotion from strangers, even negative ones. That’s all I could really ask for as someone who loves to write (asides from a BOOK DEAL *ahem* someone? anyone? lol). It validates NOT that I am a writer, but that I can do something I love and share it with others and help or entertain them along the way. It’s a pretty sweet deal if I do say so myself.

So “Thank-you thank you thank you, you’re far too kind. Hold your applause, this is your song not mine.” Because as much as yall may like my shit? Some of the best stuff I’ve ever read has came … from YOU.

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