Finding Abigail

Hunter Gibson

Part I.

I knew it as soon as I opened the door; goodbye was in her eyes. She looked at me with a heavy expression, but a not so heavy heart.

“Look, Nicki; I think we need to talk.” Was followed by a heavy sigh.

“Abigail, what’s the matter sweetheart?” As if I already didn’t know.

“You’re so good to me, you’re a great man, but I don’t think you’re the right man for me. I’ve had an amazing two years with you, but; but I don’t see it going any farther then this. I want to see the world; I’m not ready to settle down like you are. I can’t spend the rest of my life in North Carolina.”

I’ve known this all along, ever since the day we met; Abigail has been a free spirit. She always talked about going to France, and Madagascar, and Japan; anywhere she could get a plane ticket for was where she wanted to go. She’s a traveler, a nomad, and a lost soul without a cause.

What about me, you ask? Well all I cared about was riding my Harley as far as she would take me. I was a mechanics student at a technical school by the apartment I moved into. I love motorcycles and I could tell you the insides and outs on every model made by Harley Davidson.

Wait a minute here; I’m getting way ahead of myself, let’s backtrack to the day she left me. She continued to tell me about why she was crushing my soul and breaking my heart all at once:

“Nicki, honest to God, I love you with all my heart; I just can’t sit here anymore. I need to be free. I need to see the world! With you still going to school and finishing your degree, I, I just think it would be better for us to be alone then apart. I’m leaving today. Good luck, Nicki. Never forget who you really are.”

A tear shed down her face. She kissed me on the cheek, and ran off. I couldn’t even have gotten a word out before she left. I stood in that doorway for an hour, just because of the ton of bricks that just hit me. I couldn't move. I didn’t know what to do. I called up my mom, my dad, my sister, my best friend; nobody could give me the advice I was looking for. There was only one thing that offered a temporary relief. So just like that I started to hit the sauce, hard. For all three months of summer Jack Daniels was my best friend.

I would work full time at the auto body shop two towns over, then ride my bike home, and immediately start drinking. The depression was real; I grew out my beard, wore the same pair of jeans all the time, barely ate, and steadily became an alcoholic while the whole time, I just thought about my Abigail. Part of me was happy she was fulfilling her dream, the other ninety-eight percent of me was longing for my girl.

Then, one day I had had a revelation as I was looking in the mirror, I believe my exact words were as follows:

“What. The. Hell. Are you doing with your life Nick? You’re girl is out there living life, and here you are, drowning in your self-pity and whiskey. Go! Go after her you bastard! If you want something in life, go get it! Where there's a will, there's a way! Just do it!”

So I did it.

It was the beginning of August, and I told myself I was going to take a year off of my life to go find Abigail. I remembered she made a list of all the places she wanted to see in the world and left it on my refrigerator. I know it sounds crazy with a list as my only map, but there were specific destinations in certain countries. So that helped narrow it down a little bit. Nevertheless, I grabbed my backpack; I put two changes of clothes, a picture of Abigail, and a copy of the Adventures of Huckleberry Finn in it, and out the door I went.

This may be insane, but not having her was driving me to insanity. I needed to have her in my life again. Besides, I could use a little adventure. Hell I've never even seen Disney World!

So I tapped my savings, put my credits at school on hold, told my mother I love her, and headed for the airport.

The first spot on the list was the Christ the Redeemer statue in Brazil. I went to the airport, bought my ticket to Rio, and I was off.