I was thinking about writing this entry and I think I'm going to call it, The End of My Childhood.

Today is the day I officially get my own place. Well, not my own, but one outside of my parents' houses. At five o'clock today, we go to sign the lease and probably (I don't see why we wouldn't, but it hasn't been vocalized yet) get the keys to our apartment. For the first time in my life, I'll have my own place to call home.

It's exciting, to say the least. I woke up this morning and I kept thinking about how we'll have our own place, a place that's just ours. We won't ever have to say, "Are we sleeping at your house or mine?" again. Because his place and mine are going to be the same.

I can't wait to see what'll annoy the fuck out of me about him. And I can't wait to see what'll annoy the fuck out of him about me. I don't fill up the ice cube trays and that annoys him. I know that much already.

But the past couple days I've been packing my stuff up and it's just been like, "Whoa, this is really happening." I'm putting all of my shit into boxes and leaving the place I've spent the majority of the last six years in. As soon as I finished moving all my shit, that's it. It becomes my sister's room. My sister's room with "When I got the music, I got a place to go" painted on the wall, along with about 40 other Rancid quotes.

I'm leaving the stars on the ceiling. But I'm taking my Rancid poster and the Hellcat posters and putting them up in our new room. It's just not MY place without my Rancid poster. Period.

I can't bring myself to be sad about leaving my old room. Because no matter how momentous that is, moving in with my baby (ha) is even better. He makes me so happy in a way that no one has ever been able to do. He makes me believe in fate again. We make me believe in fate again.

But that's it. No more living with my mom for me.

My place... heh, I like the way that sounds.