I spent all this time thinking that meet cutes were the epitome of happiness and that if I could just give them to my trans readers, I’d be saving them from the world around them. Now I realize that this Diary was always a selfish venture. About giving myself hope for a love I didn’t think I’d ever find.

But I did. So even though this Diary has been more a collection of my personal hopes than anyone’s biography, I hope this story gives hope to some of my readers too. I understand if you all want to jump ship, and no one will blame you. The fact of the matter is that I lied and tried to trick you all into thinking these stories were factually true, when that was never the case. Even my relationship with Drew was just a Hollywood remake.

I hope the personal truths you all found by reading this blog stay with you even if you leave the Diary behind. At the end of the day, I guess that’s what the Diary was all about anyway—reminding you all that you deserve love, and the most important thing is that you know that, no matter what comes next.

And I don’t know what this blog will be in a week or a month or a year. I barely know what it’ll be tomorrow, but as long as it can mean something to someone—as long as it can shine a little bit of light for a trans kid somewhere who has none—I’m not giving up on it. I promise.

“What am I supposed to do with these?” Devin asks, a small jar of sprinkles in hand.

I roll my eyes. “Put them on the cupcakes, obviously.”

“Ew, no, that’s gross.”

“Fine,” I say, snatching the small jar out of eir hand. “I’ll eat them.”

Devin winces. “Oh, God, Noah, please don’t make me watch that.”

My parents will be here any minute, and then they’re taking us all to dinner. They’ll spend the night at a hotel, and tomorrow morning, the three of us will be off to California. I invited Devin over to help me make cupcakes, which basically translates into Devin making cupcakes while I watch, but I just wanted something fun for us to do while we wait, preferably something that keeps our hands busy and something I can do to make my parents feel my time here was productive.

And really, Devin’s talent shines through in the lofty swirls of the frosting, and now we both get to enjoy them without my lack of skill wasting the perfectly good batter.