#writerabigailcooper

[writerabigailcooper]

sometimes, goodbyes are easy. other times, they burn in your throat like a stoked fire, the flame eating you alive. nothing can quench its thirst, and nothing can make it leave.

could you let it go? you need to. it's only growing stronger.

[writerabigailcooper]

brown eyes, so full of love, so full of life so deep and dark colored by swirls of chocolate and chestnut and soft golden flecks amber in the sunlight pools of soul in the moonlight as beautiful as the resilient earth as eternal as the night sky daylilies, forest trees the very earth which brings life to even the smallest of things when the sunlight shines just right, a world of possibilities glow—golds and hazels and soft shades of their being stare back at me and i know i will never love a color more than the brown of their very soul—of the piece of the celestial world they hold within their very core i will never love a color more, never love a person more than what i have seen and what i have been with them.

initially posted on instagram under the same handle 8/11/2022. re-written and polished here.

[writerabigailcooper]

favorite lines i wrote recently from my very unedited wip, to the ends of the earth, that i needed to share with someone other than my cat who won't leave me alone:

The cool winter months stretched on. If he did not know any better, he would assume that God had wanted an incredibly long winter that year. Perhaps as a punishment. What better way to punish your subjects than to freeze them?

The two continued on in renewed vigor, their conversation steering away from August and wives waiting back home to the recollection of memories long past.

“It will,” said Maplebeck. “I am sure once we arrive, it will be as if God is on our side and not theirs, sir.”             The commander chuckled softly. “I will pray that you are right.”

As the women gathered to leave, Celia cast a wayward glance to her abandoned teacup. While she had never been one for the otherworldly, she could not help but make out a small lock in the tea leaves left behind. What it meant, she did not know.

[writerabigailcooper]

writing prompt #10:

It has been some time since you last made contact with what many believe to have been a "human." If you were honest with yourself, it was hard to even imagine that they were real! After nearly two centuries of adapting to a life on Earth, rumors of a man-like group has appeared, seen as a threat to your life and family. The fear of your people is warranted, fed by the rumors and folktales of old. There is no telling what these people are capable of, and you were unfortunate enough to live at the time of their return.

[writerabigailcooper]

who am i if not nothing

how devastatingly insignificant might i be to know that the one person who claims to love me more than life could not be bothered to show when it matters most

to know that i am an afterthought a thing of the past a disheartened soul stuck in place when the other has moved on far beyond what i can see

originally posted on instagram under the same name 12/26/2022.

[writerabigailcooper]

i thought when you left, that would be the end of it all. i would forget how you used me, and my heart would heal from the damage it took when you decided i was no longer enough for your amusement. how could i choose to forget? i wanted to choose to move on, finding myself in new things around me. but the more time passes, the longer the memories become a deeper part of my past, a deeper part of the person i am today, i realize that you were more to me than i ever was to you.

i wish the ghost of you would let me be.

initially posted on instagram under the same handle 1/28/2022. re-written here and polished. i think.

[writerabigailcooper]

craving love

i crave love. i crave gentle touches, whispered secrets, things that only the two of us will share.

i crave cherished promises and warm embraces and chaste kisses, evenings basked in the light we found just for ourselves.

i know they would fit perfectly in my arms, in my embrace, in my mind.

i crave seeing the moon and thinking of them, or seeing the stars and knowing their eyes shine brighter than any i have ever seen.

i crave long nights and tickle fights and conversations that last until the morning hours, never an end in sight.

i crave being the one they think of when their days grow cold, when their days seem to be never ending.

i crave—no, i want.

i want gentle touches. warm embraces. i want my moon, my stars—the very galaxy that is my person.

i want that burning feeling that comes when i know that i have found the one for me. i want that burning feeling that comes when my heart is full and so is theirs.

i crave love. but i want it more.

originally posted on instagram under the same name 8/24/2022. re-worked here and polished.

[writerabigailcooper]

here are some of my favorite lines/passages i've written recently in my current rewrite (approx. 27k words as of rn), in no particular order (these are subject to change, of course, with further drafts and editing):

Crumbling for a woman he had been so skeptical of the moment he saw her tears.

Would she dare to humor him? To humor herself? How could she? In a perfect world, she would not question it. Never had she been looked at like that—at least, none of what she had noticed on her own. Like she was the only woman in the room, like nothing could stop him from wanting to look at her. She had never felt so overwhelmed by a mere look of a man.

The sky, even with the painting, looked like it always had. Beautiful. Always changing, never the same thing twice. A reminder that just because it was, did not mean that it was so. She had spent so long ruminating and hoping for more, but now? Oh, now, she could dream far and wide. She did not have to answer to Theresia. She did not have Kingston Gilbert breathing down her neck. She had Zaya Moody—roommate, friend, confidant.

She had always found comfort in the excellence of numbers, but the mysticism of the world spoke out to her much stronger than anything else.