But as the world reopened, my island began to feel more like a chore than a retreat. The weeds became overwhelming, art collections were left unfinished, and villagers started noticing my absence. The guilt of seeing some leave, like goth mom Mathilda and her baby, kept me from logging back in. I feared the worst: finding Lucky gone or my beloved holiday cottage buried under piles of weeds.
At one point, I returned for a stint working at the vacation resort—it was very White Lotus, and I felt like Belinda for a while. But that, too, couldn’t hold my attention for long. Now, with the option to transfer my island to the new Nintendo Switch, I’m torn. Without news of a new Animal Crossing installment on the horizon, I hesitate to face the line of questioning from villagers about my long absence or their possible despair at being left in limbo.
Deleting the island feels unthinkable—how could I erase those memories and friendships? For now, I let my island wait, suspended in time. Perhaps there will be a new Animal Crossing game someday, allowing me to reconnect and build new memories. Until then, my villagers will remain in the in-between, and I'll tell myself they believe I moved to greener pastures. Wouldn't it be lovely if I could one day visit them again, just as they've done so many times for me?
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