Not like it wasn't when I moved (<---sarcasm ::eye roll:: )...but I think this is the first time I permitted myself to recognize it.

Thinsg are very different now.

For a lack of better words, I'm just trying to find myself.

If you knew me before, I hate anything cliche, trite, or overdone. It's monotonous and repeatitive. But when I think of it, everything is that way. There is no thought that one person on this earth could think that hasn't been thought before.

So screw my obsession with the extraordinary and the special.

Maybe I should just embrace the fact that everyone is unique. Maybe I should reanalyze everything that I held in value.

I remember in British Lit. I was talkin to this girl named Esther about being here. And she said it was to test my morals, my values, what I hold high in regard.

I knew what she was saying was true ...that it was a test. This is the first time I'll admit it. That everything I've ever believed to be true about my self and my environment is being tested.

I'm not sure if I'm passing or failing at this moment. But it just makes me think.

Think so much ...or think so little ...so not enough ...that I can't put it into words in this little diary of mine.

That it has to be just kept in my head for it to make sense. It is the same way with Scott.

I never talk about him anymore. Ever. I swear to you, the only times that I do are in my own private or in this diary. That is as far as it goes.

Since semester, I met this girl at my lunch hour and I talked to her about Scott today. And it felt awkward. I tell you why: I don't know what to say when it comes to him. It's not that I'm at a loss for words. It's just that I'm unsure. She said she felt the way I did. And I'm not trying to say that my love him was any stronger than hers ...I just think that she missed the point.

I know there are people out there who have loved as passionately as I did. I'm not even sure if I did love. (This is exactly why I don't talk about him ...'cause it all gets too messy) But what I'm trying is: I don't think she understoood.

I don't think she understood because I don't understand yet. I think that this is the first time in a while that I've accept my new found tranquility. That I'm just willing to let go of everything right now.

That it's not that bad anymore.

That everything is okay now.

And that I'm normal again.

And that is okay.

Because special is just another stereotype.

And I'm not sure if I made sense at all in this entry because I'm not that passionate anymore. And I wish I were.

If that makes sense to you.

Everything feels just ...sort of quiet.