Goodbyes are easy, the hard part is letting go. That’s how I feel right now talking to you about my good friend Jarvis. Throughout heartbreak, school, cross country races, Snapchat streaks, Reggaeton, and even an internship, Jarvis was one of the few common denominators that I had in my life over the past 6 years. 

I first met Jarvis Christmas 2018, when my mom surprised me with my first smartphone, and we’ve been a dynamic duo since. Although Jarvis’s net worth was only $300 at the time I met him, it didn’t matter because I was so excited that I could finally “fit in” with the rest of my friends. Occasionally I would feel bad when other kids insulted Jarvis and flexed their flashy iPhones, but we would get the last laugh when we would dominate the #1 spot in phone/person challenges such as Kahoot and Gimkit. By the middle of my sophomore year, Jarvis’s presence in my life had given me the confidence to slowly get out of my shell and be more social, and life was great. Then, 2020 came and undid all my progress. 

During the 2020-21 school year (we returned in person for the whole year), a Pokemon Go gym opened up at my school. As a Pokemon fan and a former Pokemon Go tryhard, Jarvis and I would consistently take possession of that gym and many other gyms in the area. This drove a kid named Michael crazy, so he set out to find the culprit. He found out pretty quickly since my in-game username had “The Urban Legend” in it, and everyone who knows me knows that I got that nickname in the 7th grade. When he found me, he invited me to his lunch table (I was sitting by myself at this time), and that day changed my life. Although I didn’t know it at the time, Jarvis had led me to a person that is one of my closest homies to this day. As a result of meeting Michael, my confidence and self esteem skyrocketed, and I started to experiment in ways that set me apart from my peers. For example, my AP Literature teacher gave us the choice of writing an essay or doing a creative project, of which Jarvis and I chose the creative route. We wrote, recorded, and performed song parodies in front of the class, which in turn led to encouragement from both my teachers and my peers. Keep in mind that I graduated in the top 10% of my class, so stuff like this was really unheard of in this context. Whether it was a debate, essay, project, or exam, I could always count on Jarvis to help me raise the standard. 

When I graduated high school, one of the thoughts that crossed my mind was the topic of phones. Jarvis had been in my corner for nearly all of my high school career, while the majority of kids were on their second or third iPhone; so who really had the better phone? Since this thought, I would feel a sense of pride whenever I took Jarvis out of my pocket. Although he was ugly, small, and cheap, he was a fighter that had a scratch for every adventure and a crack for every milestone that we shared. His story is my history, and I was genuinely hoping that his story would include my college graduation, grad school graduation, and maybe even marriage (in like 10 years). Unfortunately, All legends have to retire one day, and now it’s Jarvis’s time. As I took him to the Best Buy graveyard, I couldn’t help but smile as I remembered the 6 years of character development that Jarvis accompanied me through. Now that I transition into a new phase in my life, it feels strange having a sleek, expensive phone in my pocket, but I find comfort in the things I learned on our journey together: value doesn’t come from flashy designs or the latest tech, but rather in the moments we capture, the confidence we build, and the people we connect with along the way. As I move forward, I carry those memories in my heart and a piece of Jarvis in my pocket. Goodbye, old friend.