It was a bright, sunny day. The sky was hazy blue at noon when we arrived, and turned vibrant golden by afternoon, creating a breathtaking scene. The whole friend group had finally reunited since we last met at the restaurant, before everyone moved to various schools. We decided to celebrate in a forest by the campfire. Setting everything up took us two and a half hours. The beauty of nature gave me a surge of passion, yet the sudden silences accompanied by unfamiliar animal calls sent shivers down my spine. Everything becomes much more soothing when you have someone by your side. You just have to pray they don't run away if they get scared. The smoky scent of firewood burning and the fire crackling reminded everyone of their childhood. That atmosphere gave us this weird sense of nostalgia, which was odd because none of us had gone camping, let alone had memories associated with wildfire. We lit the fire and sat around it in a circle, playing truth or dare like we used to. The atmosphere was warm despite the cooling weather. Out of nowhere, clouds rolled in, and it started to rain. So we laid out the largest hot tent we had brought and moved everything inside. We switched to playing UNO, in which I won, of course. We made the loser run three laps around our camping area. Do you ever get that feeling that you're going to miss this moment while still living in it? This feeling does nothing more than prevent you from enjoying the moment fully. That uneasiness in thinking about the future, alongside how you'll never experience this again, makes your stomach churn, eating away the whole vibe all at once. The scene in front of you becomes like you're recalling a decade-old memory. Goosebumps start to rise on your skin, as if you're no longer real anymore. Looking back, I saw many missed moments and opportunities. I couldn't miss another one because of them. I tried to focus on the present, but my thoughts kept shifting back to those wasted times. "Food!" some guy in the back squeaked out in the most cheerful voice I'd ever heard. By the time everyone turned their heads towards him, he had already swallowed two chunks of meat. "Of course, he spotted food first – that guy has radar for snacks." "Being first is better than being last," he chuckled. "Besides, I brought my own hotpot. You can take some if you want." "Come here, everyone! Wash your hands and sit with crossed legs – we have to squeeze everyone around the table. We've got sandwiches, hot dogs, bagels, and ramen. Then we'll roast marshmallows over the fire with some hot chocolate," our group leader announced. "Why is it that you only eat meat? There are other dishes besides baked, roasted, fried, grilled, and broiled meat, you know. On top of that, vegetables are much cheaper." "Then I'd have to take a mountain of supplements, which would cost more than meat itself." We live to make memories — that's how we stay happy. Time feels fast or slow depending on what you remember. Sometimes a deep thought strikes my mind: Why are we here? Is this all real? If nothing's guaranteed, what are we working so hard for? I know my path, but still, something feels missing. Does it really make a difference whenever you have deep conversations or realisations about your life? Putting it all aside, I decided to lean on my best friend's shoulder and quietly observe the scene. She immediately moved closer and wrapped her arm around me, hugging me sideways. There was no point in trying to get rid of that thought; it would always find its way inside my mind. We started cracking jokes back and forth. After the second round of jokes, the rain had eased, so we decided to go outside and play tag. The ground was wet and muddy, which made it easy to slip and hurt ourselves. Luckily, all of us knew how to hold our balance thanks to ice skating, so we didn't have much of a problem on the slippery ground. Despite that, one of us still managed to slip and slide down the hill towards a puddle near an old wooden hut we used to play in. We went inside. The first thing my eyes fell on was… Coco Puff. My childhood teddy bear, which I'd found on the side of the road and sort of decided was mine. Well, finders keepers, losers weepers. Looking at Coco, who had collected dust, I could tell someone had played with her recently. It was clear that whoever found her had attempted to clean her with the river water, which had turned brown over the years. Kids – the only ones naive enough to do that. As I checked the drawers, hoping to find something interesting, I found a cool-toned pink notebook with "Lilly's Diary" written in the top-right corner. I turned the first page: a drawing of Coco inside a red heart. I knew I had to give Coco away, even if I had just found her after years. I put her back on the shelf and gave her a quick pat. She wasn't mine from the start, so I guess she's not mine to lose. We need to learn how to let go, after all.