You remember the Fun Bunch, the friend group you had in 5th grade that got in trouble for being a cult. The pink composition notebook you all kept with the sticky note taped to the front, the journal you still have in that bin in the attic. The guy who lived up the street from you, who wore your Princess Peach™ costume and jumped on your trampoline upstairs, bit one of your friend's legs at lunch under the table. You have their name written down in that notebook, you remember that you do, but you can't remember who it was off the top of your head. There are other memories stored in there, and you're grateful that you have them written down.

You formed your first "micronation", more like a club, a pattern that would soon repeat itself. You had an anthem and crest and name and everything. Unisysia. You included a shark somewhere in the crest because the one guy who was in that group liked sharks a lot, and you didn't want him to feel excluded in a group where you had a whole literally unicorn-themed micronation.

You were riding your bike with your friend in your neighborhood, stopping at one of the roundabouts with a willow tree in the center to recite the anthem. You did, but soon after, you passed out on the concrete while she was venting about her grandma's cat dying. You still feel a little bad. You were out for two minutes. It sparked a year or so long bout of health questions. In hindsight, it was likely the heat combined with the fact that you were on the second day of your first ever period.

One of those friends from the Fun Bunch and Unisysia would move away. She moved here from Scotland in 1st grade, and you were friends with her for a long time. She moved back in 6th grade. You were wearing a white button down with little black music notes on it when you said your goodbyes in the parking lot of a Sweet Frog™. You still miss her. You try to keep a streak with her on Snapchat™ still. You're not good at remembering streaks.

Those were some of your happiest moments. You have some pictures from then. If you look back far enough in your phone and in your email, when your mutual friend Saturn had to pay a small fee every time she sent a text so you always called instead.

You don't have to write it down to remember what you found on call together that saved your life while ending it. But you'll treasure those memories anyway. (I love you. I miss you all. I'm sorry we didn't have much time together.)

You spent time at Saturn's house. You went to the neighborhood park, but the old wooden swingset structure in her backyard was where you all joked that she totally did not have mints in her back pocket.

Another occasion, with just you and Saturn, aside from her older sister, you were so good at hide and seek that they'd both thought you'd gone home for the day. You were in her closet for close to an hour. That older sister would date the older brother of your now partner at some point. But you just knew her as Saturn's Sister who would break her leg rollerskating and be the reason they no longer taught it as a unit in your middle school's gym class.

You had that class last period one year, you think it was 7th grade. You would buy Pocky™ from the vending machine to eat on the bus ride home with quarters you'd picked from the communal coin jar in your house. You always tried for a window seat, usually in the middle, closer to the back. You'd listen to music with your earbuds in, or pretend to and listen to the conversations of those around you instead, hoping to hear something funny for you to write down in your online journal that is still public for some reason.

You'd go to Saturn's neighborhood for Halloween that year, 2017. She was life, you were death. You have a picture of it. She had a box of Life Cereal™ and a lemon, referencing the vine. You'd come back the following year with a different set of friends for the same holiday. This was your introduction to cosplay. You still have the cloak, the glasses, the headband and the broken off horns. And you still love Terezi Pyrope. No pictures from that night, but the memory and the Grey Snazaroo Body Paint™ still live with you.

But before Saturn, there was another person who somehow was a persistent and recurring figure in your life for years. You met King in 2nd grade. You met his sister first, but after 4th grade, you were closer friends with him than his sister. You founded your second and more long-lasting club together. It was more of a shitposting channel that you both took too seriously. It was named after a water tower with a Brand Name™ on it that was close to your mock-congress location-- your first proper introduction to confusing feelings about boys in suits who were smart and good at debating. And who made you laugh. Maybe that part was more important. You're reluctant to say that you still have some lingering feelings for/about him, even after so long. You have no fucking clue what those feelings actually are, to be fair, but they're there nonetheless.

In 5th grade, you joked about starting a Minecraft™ Youtube™ Channel with him. Part of you wishes that you did, just so you could laugh at your previous mistakes. There's an unlisted video on your Youtube™ channel from a few years later where you host a funeral for your starter house on That Server (unrelated to King) (I love you, I miss you.) by trying to burn it down, but the gamerule firespreading was off. There's something symbolic about it.

In freshman year, your friends would change again. But you had class with one of the people from your more recent club, Z. First period, Graphic Arts. Genuinely some of the most fun you've ever had. You still have videos. The memory is a bit tainted now.

Your best friend was also in that class and started dating Z. Sometime in early 2020, Z asked you to write a breakup letter for them. You don't remember what you wrote. You tried to get Z to at least say it over the phone, but they refused. So you broke up with your best friend over text and got the call from her within minutes of you sending Z their draft. You've never admitted that to her. You're pretty sure she still hates you for an unrelated reason now.

In 2021, you went to her beach house for a little vacation. You texted King that night/early morning on the porch/balcony. You don't know why he was awake. It felt like flirting. You joked about staging a coup. That vacation was the first time you ever watched the sun rise. You will stick with the belief that it was the most beautiful thing you have and will ever see. Some things come close, but it was indescribable. Laying on the beach, watching the stars fade behind the scattered cirrus.

Before Z moved away... (brief break to go through camera roll to figure out what year that happened. Answer: March 13, 2022.) you visited them for one last time. This was actually the first time you'd ever been over to their house. It was a good 20 or so minute drive. The sky was blue with a couple of clouds. It was the bluest you'd seen it in a long time. On the way, you thought about a video they'd sent you a while back of them singing some excerpt of a song from A Musical™ you don't remember, literally in their barn. Shivers.

They gave you a white Monster Energy Drink™, knowing you didn't handle caffeine well, but you still drank some of it. They gave you one of their necklaces, one that holds one of their D20's in it, and you put it on. And you still have the Monster™ can's tab. It's on the same string as the necklace. They showed you a butterfly knife they had. You said it looked cool. They put it to your throat and held you down against their couch with it. That was when you learned something about yourself: your fight or flight response is freeze.

You kissed them once or twice. It felt like closure. Even when the feeling of the cold metal was still a ghost on your skin as you drove away. You remember your last words to them:

"See you on the flipside, motherfucker!" Knowing full well that you'd never see them again.

If you had less dignity and a higher pain tolerance, you'd get those words tattoed. You already don't have much dignity. You wrote them a love song. It's publically avaliable on the internet to listen to. You should fix that. You also have a privated video of them strip mining for several hours straight, timelapsed. You just found it funny. Why does everything lead back to Minecraft™?