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So... About 2 months ago I wrote something for this book. And when I was writing it, I had no intention of writing a second part. I didn't think much else could happen in my life. Well, I was wrong. Stuff has happened.

1. I moved. Not a short, across town move, not even a few-hour-drive move. No, this was a coast to coast move. From California to North Carolina. Probably the worst transition ever. California was everything I had ever dreamed of. A positive gay community. Accepting friends. Being able to walk around town with a rainbow pin on my backpack and not get called a faggot.

2. My depression came back. It is back. Mine was never severe in the way where I do self harm, but severe in the way where I do nothing and just hate myself for days, weeks, months on end. Hate my life. My situation. Anything I can blame for my unhappiness. I thought I'd be able to get back into the swing of things with my old friends from North Carolina, jump back into a happy environment, but... it's now evident that that's not possible.

3. I came out. Not on purpose. It was a mess. It was the week we were moving. We had movers in the house, packing up our shit, destroying my life. My then-girlfriend was over. (He is transgender, but at that time I didn't know.) We had gone on a walk. I wanted to show him the rainbow flag on a house in my neighborhood. We got a text from my mom asking if we could come home. I called her to see if anything was wrong.

"Hey Mom, this is Sanna, is everything okay?"

"Susanna, Peter told me about an Instagram post Julia made. About you coming out."

I froze. I wanted to throw up. Peter, my brother, had told her that my sister Julia posted a video of me talking about Pride month on her Instagram.

"Um, I'm gonna hang up, we'll just walk home."

I didn't want to walk home. My boyfriend asked me if I was okay. I told him about it. I held his hand walking home. I was scared.

When I got inside the house, the first thing I heard was nothing. It was quiet.I walked into the living room and said hi to my mom.

I don't really want to talk about what happened next. It was upsetting, to say the least. When we finished talking, I went upstairs to my empty room and cried. My boyfriend held me and I cried and cried.

See, I didn't mind being closeted. So many people talk about how they feel oppressed and dead inside. I was fine. I was safe in the closet. But out in the open... It's scary. I wasn't allowed to wear rainbow stuff. I wasn't allowed to know my own phone passcode. I felt stripped of everything that made me who I was.

That was a great coming out story, huh? That was about a month ago. I'm still out. My parents know. They don't like it, but who cares?

4. I got a girlfriend. Who is transgender. Which I did not find out until after I moved. So actually, I got a boyfriend. And he is the most amazing thing that has ever happened to me. On my last night in California, I slept over at a friend's house and he was there and we slept together. We cuddled all night. I didn't want to let go of him. I wanted to stay on that couch forever. I wanted it to be Friday the 15th, 2 am forever.

But nothing lasts forever. My happiness certainly doesn't. In California I was happy. Here, I'm not. I'm sad, depressed every day. And I am trying to find the positivity but... It's hard.

I'm telling this story, I guess, to say that... Love is real. It's important. You will find it (unless you're Toby Flenderson...sorry Toby) and just know that whether that love is gay, or straight, or lesbian, or polyamorous or freaking whatever, it is real. And it is valid. Don't ever let anyone tell you who you can and cannot love. Because, despite what many people say, we are not a stupid, silly generation. We are a generation of kids who love unconditionally. And that is what keeps me going in my life. The thought that someday the world will be full of kids like us. Kids who love, no matter your gender, religion, race, or sexuality.