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Continuing my metaphor of life as a secret garden, I can see that wrought iron gate, leading to the rest of my life, right ahead. I will soon be leaving the realm of adolescence and going out into that big, grassy field they call the world. I don't really want to go. This sweet little garden place I've known my whole life is so familiar and beloved. I don't like change. I don't handle it well. There are things I'm sort of looking forward to, but I'm not really ready to graduate and move out. It scares me. And I know I'll probably cry. But hey. Se la vie. If I spelled that right.