Grief is messy. It's complicated. It's noisy. Or, at least, that's how Abubakar Salim described grief to me when we sat down to play Tales of Kenzera: ZAU, the debut game from his studio, Surgent Studios. On the surface, Tales of Kenzera: ZAU is a confident and vibrant 2.5D metroidvania, with an African mystical world as its backdrop. But below its genre foundation, are roots nourished and forged from tragedy. When Abubakar's father passed away, he said it was like "the rose-tinted glasses were snatched from his face."

Abubakar was shoved into the depths of grief, navigating a labyrinth of questions he couldn't answer and emotions he had trouble unpacking. It was noisy and unclear--a feeling that he felt only Tales of Kenzera: ZAU could emulate. "It doesn't matter if you've lost a parent, a brother, a friend, a pet, or a job. Grief is something we'll all experience, and it's a journey that we all go through. It's what makes us all human," he told me. Hearing him contextualize grief in that way, regardless of what/who you've lost, struck a resounding chord for me.

Six months ago, I lost my cat of 14 years, Lili. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of her. And even half a year later, the smallest thing can trigger a welling of emotions that brings me back to the final moment when I had to say goodbye. It's gotten easier with time to center myself and become present in the moment, to not get entirely lost in the maze of my emotions and memories, or the sinking reminder that I'll never see her again, never smell her again, never hear her again. It's utterly crippling having to go through that maze. Yet as painful as it is, I also don't want to lose sight of that grief--it brings me back to her. Instead, I want to better understand my way around it. I will likely never come to terms with losing her, but I can at least learn to navigate life without her. Even writing this and trying to find the words to encapsulate that feeling is vague and obtuse. It's complicated. It's messy. It's grief.