~slams entire desk drawer onto the floor like it just insulted my ancestors~ BESTIES. BESTIES. I have to tell you about the ~worst~ and also ~best~ night of my life, which started with a ~harmless~ organizational urge and ended with me ~barricaded in my closet~ with a ~glitter-encrusted fire extinguisher~ and a ~demon who keeps asking for my WiFi password~!!! 😱💅🔥

It was ~2:17 AM~ — which, for the record, is the ~official witching hour of bad decisions~ — and I was ~vibing~ in that way where you’re not ~tired~ but you’re also not ~awake~, you’re just ~existing in the glittery purgatory between consciousness and whatever comes after you watch 17 *NSYNC music videos in a row~. And that’s when I ~saw it~. My glitter gel pen collection. ~Just sitting there~. In a ~pile~. Like ~common pencils~. Like they were ~not the most important objects in my possession~!!!

~dramatic gasp that inhales a loose rhinestone~ I KNOW what you’re thinking, bestie. “Bicky, you have ~47 glitter gel pens~. That’s ~too many~.” AND TO THAT I SAY ~WRONG~!!! 47 is ~not enough~!!! 47 is ~barely a start~!!! 47 is the ~number of glitter gel pens you need just to write a single love letter to Justin Timberlake without repeating colors~!!! But also? ~47 is too many to just have in a pile like some kind of *~peasant~*!!!

So I ~decided~ to organize them. But not by ~color~, bestie. ~Color is for people who don’t understand art~. Not by ~brand~, because ~obviously~ they’re all ~Paper Mate or Bust~ (RIP to the one ~Gelly Roll~ that snuck in there, you ~traitor~). No, no, no. I was going to organize them by ~EMOTIONAL RESONANCE~. ~drops Lip Smacker like it’s a mic~ That’s right, bestie. ~Each pen would be placed according to the *~emotional journey~ it takes me on when I use it~. The *~sparkly pink~ that makes me feel like I’m ~12 years old at a Claire’s grand opening~? ~Top shelf, center position~. The ~deep purple~ that makes me feel like I’m ~writing a breakup letter to my middle school crush who probably doesn’t even remember I exist~? ~Bottom drawer, next to the emergency chocolate~. The ~neon green~ that makes me feel like I’m ~a lime-green supervillain about to take over the mall food court~? ~Fridge. Obviously.~

~adjusts bedazzled headband with the gravity of a woman who is about to change the world~ So there I was, bestie. ~Spread out on my floor~ like a ~glittery crime scene~. I had my ~notebook~ (which is ~just a Moleskine with stickers on it~ but don’t tell anyone I said that), my ~emergency snack stash~ (half a bag of Sour Patch Kids and a ~slightly melted~ Hershey’s bar), and my ~emotional support inflatable chair~ (RIP, you ~fell victim to the chaos~). And I ~started sorting~.

The first pen was ~easy~. ~Hot pink with silver glitter~. This was the pen I used to write ~love notes to my Tamagotchi~ in 2003. ~Emotional resonance~: ~Pure, unfiltered joy~. ~Placement~: ~Pillow fort of honor~. The second pen was ~also easy~. ~Black with gold glitter~. This was the pen I used to write ~angsty poetry in the back of my math notebook~ while pretending to solve for X. ~Emotional resonance~: ~Teenage angst with a side of *~I don’t actually know what X is~~. *~Placement~: ~Under my bed, where the angst belongs~.

And then. AND THEN. ~collapses onto a pile of throw pillows that are definitely on fire but I don’t have time to check~ I picked up the ~third pen~. It was ~teal with holographic glitter~. And the ~SECOND~ I touched it, bestie, I ~felt it~. The ~vibes~. The ~energy~. The ~emotional resonance~ hitting me like a ~glitter bomb to the face~. This pen wasn’t just ~teal~, bestie. This pen was ~HAUNTED~.

~dramatic whisper~ I KNOW what you’re thinking. “Bicky, ~teal~ is just a color. It’s not ~haunted~.” AND TO THAT I SAY ~YOU DIDN’T FEEL WHAT I FELT~!!! This pen had ~history~, bestie. This pen had ~SECRETS~. This pen had ~the emotional resonance of a thousand unfinished diary entries~ and also ~the ghost of my 7th grade self~ who is ~still mad at me for not standing up to Brittany when she said my Limited Too outfit looked *~”too much”~!!!

So I ~did what any reasonable person would do~. I ~screamed~. And then I ~threw the pen across the room~. And then the pen ~floated back to me~. ~SLOWLY~. Like it was in a ~music video~. Like it was ~saying~, “Bicky, we ~need to talk~.” And that’s when the ~notebook started writing by itself~.

~clutches rhinestone mousepad like it’s the only thing keeping me from being sucked into the void~ I ~tried to run~, bestie. I ~really did~. But the ~door was locked~. And not like, ~with a key~. Like, ~with glitter~. There was a ~pile of glitter~ blocking the door, and every time I ~tried to sweep it away~, more ~appeared~. And then the ~lights started flickering~ in ~Morse code~, and I ~know~ Morse code because I ~watched a lot of spy movies in the early 2000s~, and it was ~saying~: ~”BICKY. WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT THE PENS.~”

And that’s when I ~realized~ the ~truth~, bestie. The glitter gel pens ~weren’t just pens~. They were ~portals~. ~Portals to my past~. ~Portals to my emotions~. ~Portals to a dimension where *NSYNC never broke up and my Limited Too hoodie still fits~!!! And the ~teal pen~? The ~teal pen~ was the ~key~. The ~key to all of it~. The ~key to the emotional resonance of my entire life~!!!

So I ~did what any reasonable person would do~. I ~grabbed the teal pen~ and I ~yelled~, “FINE. LET’S DO THIS.” And then I ~wrote my name~ in the notebook. And the notebook ~wrote back~: ~”Hi Bicky. We miss you.~” And then the ~fire alarm went off~.

~collapses onto the floor which is definitely on fire but also covered in glitter so it’s fine~ And that’s how I ~ended up~ barricaded in my closet, bestie. With a ~glitter-encrusted fire extinguisher~ (which, ~by the way~, does ~not~ work on ~emotional fires~), a ~demon who keeps asking for my WiFi password~ (I ~told~ it the password is ~”NSYNC4EVA”~ but it ~doesn’t believe me~), and a ~newfound respect for the power of glitter gel pens~.

~dramatic gasp~ Do you ~understand~ what this means, bestie?! This means that ~every time~ I ~organize my glitter gel pens~, I am ~not just sorting~. I am ~summoning~. I am ~communicating with the past~. I am ~opening a portal to a world where my *~emotions are the currency~ and my ~glitter is the language~!!! And also, my room is ~on fire~.

But here’s the ~thing~, bestie. ~leans in close like we’re sharing a secret~ I ~don’t regret it~. Not even a ~little bit~. Because for the first time in ~years~, I ~felt something~. I ~felt everything~. I ~felt the emotional resonance of my entire life~ coursing through me like a ~glittery river of truth~. And also, I ~felt the heat of the flames~ licking at my ~glitter-encrusted fire extinguisher~.

So ~what’s the lesson here~, bestie? ~Never organize your glitter gel pens by emotional resonance~? ~Always keep a fire extinguisher handy~? ~Don’t trust teal~? ~All of the above~? ~None of the above~? I ~don’t know~. But I ~do~ know this: my glitter gel pens are ~staying in a pile~. And if you ~need me~, I’ll be in my closet. With my ~demon~. And my ~fire extinguisher~. And my ~emotional support *NSYNC CDs~.

~adjusts bedazzled headband one last time~ And bestie? ~If you see a teal glitter gel pen~? ~RUN~.