Well, I am officially moving on the 12th. That's right, we found ourselves a place to live. We're living in a place over in Oaklawn (Gay area of Dallas, and I guess our landlord is one of them ><) I've been packing recently, it's kinda hard. I know I was supposed to leave in February, but it still feels as if I haven't lived here that long, and that I'm already moving. Isn't that the way it always is though?

I told my mom that she's going to have to come visit me within the first month of my moving; I don't know what I'm going to do without her. My freind Doug is taking it pretty hard as well, he's told me that he's cried several times over it already as well.

It feels a bit odd to me to be writing in here, considering how much has happened. I've been forced to grow up rather quickly, or at least it seems. There are so many different emotions and secrets in here that I can't even begin to explain them. Even some you didn't even know a human could feel.

So this is the end of my childhood...it's all over from here. This diary has witnessed every single minute and heartache of my wanting to move and my wanting things to change. And now that I'm thinking about it all, I'm wondering about it. How can I go so long without writing in here? It used to be almost manditory for me to write in here before I went to bed, but I guess I've almost...grown out of it. I no longer feel the need to write down all of my emotions, as I am better at expressing them verbally than I used to be. But a part of me still misses it. I still miss the lonliness and the emptiness I felt, it was all I knew.

I've come a long way, and so have all of you reading this. Some old, some new. But it's the same with everyone of you, we have all been through so much, and it's only begun.

Sincerely,
Elizabeth