I've been trying to capture the mood of the Twitter mass exodus, and I think I finally figured out what it reminded me of. But to explain it, I need to tell you a story.
The year is 2009, and I am a junior (grade 11) at an environmentalist boarding school in Wisconsin in the style of the best conservationism the 80s and 90s had to offer. Myself and about 130 other students, all of whom I knew by name, filed into the auditorium for morning announcements, like we did every Tuesday and Thursday.
This wasn't an ordinary announcement. Apparently, due to the ongoing financial crisis (almost certainly an excuse, the school had plenty of money), the school was going to transition from a normal high school to a 'semester school,' a place kids come for a few months and then leave. The existing juniors would be allowed one more year to graduate, the freshmen and sophmores would be assisted in finding other schools.
We all walked out of the auditorium in a daze. Classes were cancelled that day, and we all wandered off into our little cliques and groups to support each other as best we could.
Now, my high school experience was radically different that most people's. I had a close group of friends. I was given a safe space to start exploring my gender (though of course I didn't know that yet). I had dated in an environment where you saw each other for at least three meals a day. I learned how to socialise with a group of people that weren't just 'my mum's friend's kids.' I was more excited to go back to school after vacation than I was to come home.
A lot happened after that. A coalition of parents sued the board of trustees (they lost). I said some things I really shouldn't have that lead to me being banned from campus for that last year. But after all that, in may of 2010, it was time for graduation and I was finally allowed back.
Graduation was a lot like how i imagine homecoming is at other schools. Alumni from all over come back and see their younger friends and each other, so there's always a very lively atmosphere. But this was the last graduation ever. Everyone who possibly could stayed the few hotels around, or camped out, or slept on the floors of the dorms. There was a re-invigoration of the school, just for a minute, like the flood of customers when a coffee shop is closing. But it was all temporary.
There was no "see you next year." There was no loading belongings into the storage for the coming semester. Most of the graduating class refused to even shake the trustees hands.
And to bring it all back, that's what Twitter crumbling feels like right now. A bunch of people I took for granted, that I haven't even seen in a minute, slowly realising that a thing we all assumed would be around forever wasn't. We grabbed souvenirs and promised to keep in touch, and some of us even did. But even more than normal, we could never go back. We'd all built something together, a unique community like nothing I've been part of before or since. And yeah, it was high school. People grow apart. It was years ago.
But I can't help feeling like I did, looking around the campus for the last time. Taking in the paths I walked to class on. the woods I'd dodged security in, the dorms I'd made mischief in, the common area I'd spent every day in.
It's never coming back. But it was still beautiful that it happened.