I remember this time when one of my classmates found out about word association. He brought it up in class, and that became everyone's source of amusement for the day. We did word association for everything that day. Objects, colours, places, even people. I think I'll never forget that day because I thought it was all in good fun. I thought everyone was just messing around. But then one of the other boy's asked me, the first thing I thought about when I heard the name 'Lee Chanhee' and suddenly everybody stopped and looked at me.

I froze for a second, the name second nature to me, but I wasn't sure what to say. I looked around the room at all of those curious eyes, and my heart started to speed up. Just thinking his name drew forth so many things. We'd known each other for so long, I think I was the only person who knew everything about him: or even anything about him. His name stirred up memories and emotions, images and sounds. I could hear his soft voice ringing in my ears, and I could picture his pristine smile and I choked on everybody's expectations.

How could they expect me to sum up everything that we had been to one another, every thought and feeling I had about him into a word: a tone, that could be expressed with one or two words. I knew that none of them would ever be able to understand the two of us: they had never been able to get it and they probably never would. Me answering this question was just them looking for another way to torment him. They probably thought I'd give some sort of sappy answer like the girls did: friendship, love, affection, warmth, sweetness, any one of a number of words that I could use to describe Chanhee if I so desired. Or else, perhaps they expected this to be the time I cracked under the pressure and made fun of him, like the other boys did so that I'd be more accepted: stupid, slow, weird, outcast, loser, crazy, unstable, insane.

I wasn't going to humour any of them. There was only one thing I could think of to say to them, in response to that question, one that I hoped would make them all grow up a little bit even as I knew it was probably hopeless. “Monkeys.” I answered simply. Everyone turned to look at me, looks of confusion plastered across their faces, but I stood by my answer, nodding once, “Monkeys.”

Because that's really how we started. That's how we came into existence. They defined everything they were and are everything we'd ever be. They were the story of our past and of our present and future. They were the point that led to every thought, every conversation, every game, feeling and memory.

Monkeys.