I'm tempted to end my journal right now.

Don't panic. I am not actually going to end my journal. I'm not even close to thinking about contemplating the consideration of the possibility of such a thing. But the reason I say I'm tempted is because I feel that I've achieved a natural stopping point for my story: a happy ending.

Back when I was thinking about putting my journal into a publishable form, I thought, well, there's a big problem. There's no action in my story, no plot. I have a static job, apartment, boyfriend. Nothing's changing. Nothing exciting is happening to me, except maybe a vacation here and a new computer game there.

Be careful what you wish for, because "exciting" was right around the corner. First came the decision to go to graduate school in San Francisco, which was unbelievably scary. I wrote about it extensively at the time-- even my doubts had doubts. But ultimately, I decided that I didn't want to look back at my dream and say, "I wonder what would have happened if I had pursued it." So I decided to go for it.

Then came my grandmother's final illness and death, which put a crack in my heart that will never be repaired. I know that grandchildren are supposed to bury their grandparents; it is the natural order of things. But she wasn't done living yet. She always said I was like her, and I think there's one big thing I inherited from her: a passion for experiences, a passion for living. She would have been so proud of me. But you know what makes me feel a little better? She was always so proud of me. I didn't have to do anything to earn her pride. She saw in me the person I was meant to become, the person that I am today. I know that now.

Then there was the breakup. Looking back on that, I think it was a blessing in disguise. My recent commitment to singlehood has made me realize that a relationship just doesn't fit into my life right now. We most likely wouldn't have made it. Of course, I have regrets. I do wish it was possible for us to have an amicable relationship. I wish it had been a mutual decision. There are other things that bother me (for instance, he suuuaaacks) but I can see that it was the right course for my life to take.

Then came the actual move: living in the motel, stressing out about finding a place to live, dealing with the emotional backwash of this triple upheaval. Again, it's all chronicled in these pages. It wasn't easy. It was the worst time of my entire fucking life, actually.

This online community, as maligned as it often is, was a bedrock of continuation, constancy and support. Some of you out there are such dear friends. Having a whole bunch of people out there, rooting for me, encouraging me, consoling and laughing with me-- that's what got me through it in one piece. I completely believe that.

And suddenly it all came together. I hardly know when it happened. I found a great place to live, made friends, fell in love with the city, planted roots, started writing again, really felt myself growing creatively, and blossomed.

Dora, eloquent as ever, said in her recent entry, "If you read Mo, you know what I mean. That girl sounds more alive in her entries than she ever has... That tells me something. It tells me that when a person is doing what she truly loves, her whole life lights up."

I would never have thought to put it that way, but that's exactly it. My life has lit up.

My Dickinson professor was talking to us the other day about the "Nineteenth Century Marriage Plot." Up until a certain time, nineteenth century novels about female characters always centered around marriage. The book culminated in marriage for the heroine; that was the goal that she was working for. It was an unbreakable literary convention.

You know, we haven't really evolved that much from the Marriage Plot, have we? For a long time, I thought my "happy ending" was going to involve finding Mr. Right, and getting a sparkly ring on my finger, and living happily ever after.

It's quite astonishing to realize that I don't need that in my happy ending. Because this is it. Meaningful praise from my teachers, wonderful friends who are proud of me, coming into my own artistically, being happy and independent-- it just doesn't get any better than this.

Of course, things are going to go wrong at some future point. That's the way life goes, right? Ups and downs. It's inevitable. So this isn't happily ever after; it's just the happy ending to this chapter.

But I bet life has more than one happy ending in store for me.

In fact, I'm sure of it.

None.