We all know where we were when we were given the taco emoji. Lives were changed that day. We also remember where we were when Apple blessed us with the Patron Saint of Passive Aggression, the petty smile emoji. And now, we’ll forever remember the chilly day when Apple previewed its new iOS 10.2 and stole from us the peach emoji as a symbol for a perfect bubble butt and a celebratory tease of our best asset. In the very near future, when Apple releases its new software update to the public, the peach emoji will become just a regular peach.

As we suffer this great loss, it is only natural to go through the five stages of grief. Unlike when your grandma died and you cried uncontrollably for days, we’re adults now and we know that we need to move on. (And the truth is, no one’s grandma ever got them laid.) Know that the pain you feel is valid and that this is a normal way to convey your emotions while struggling to mourn appropriately.

It’s in a better place now—a peach orchard somewhere where it receives sunlight and fresh rain and can grow into something bigger than itself.

The first stage is Denial. “But… we need the emoji. It can’t be gone. Now how are women going to suggest pegging to their boyfriends in the most non-threatening, whimsical way possible?” This may be a particularly hard stage to get past if you’re a woman whose text resulted in you actually living out your fantasy of pegging a boyfriend.

After Denial comes Anger. You ask yourself, “Are the coders at Apple such dorks that, like an aunt on Facebook, they didn’t know why we actually use the peach emoji?” This is most likely the case. Stereotypes can hurt people, but as long as you keep them to yourself, no one will judge you for thinking that someone who likes computers more than women cannot recognize a beautiful ass when they see one, even if it has a stem on top.

If you make it past Anger, you arrive at Bargaining. You shout to your God, “Just give us back the peach and take the floppy disk! Or the French horn! Or the 24 CLOCKS! Did you even know there were 24 clock emojis? Who signed off on that idea?” Just like in real life, you won’t receive an answer, and you will hopefully realize that closure is something only you can give yourself.

The most obviously mournful stage is Depression. “But I needed that emoji to help me craft the laziest opening line on Tinder…” You think of that time you were sitting at Starbucks and matched with a Teyana Taylor lookalike. You texted her the peach and she responded by asking if you’re into anal. And then that weird Tinder glitch happened where it keeps logging you in and out of your Facebook account and you can’t get to your conversations anymore. The match was lost. You’re now doubly depressed, but while you can get over Teyana Taylor lookalike’s question, you can’t get over how the holy peach resulted in a Tinder match actually messaging you back.

The last stop won’t occur for months, but eventually you will reach Acceptance: “It’s probably best the peach left us. It’s in a better place now—a peach orchard somewhere where it receives sunlight and fresh rain and can grow into something bigger than itself.” You might wonder if peaches even grow in orchards because you grew up in the Northeast, but after googling you find out you’re right. You feel okay about this. Your peach emoji will spend the rest of eternity in a lovely Georgia orchard.

Dear peach emoji, we want you to know how much we’ve appreciated you. Maybe we haven’t said it enough, but your brief life taught us how fun it is to talk about butts as adults. We don’t want to agonize over why you left us. We’ve appreciated your ability to get us laid and consider butt play. You turned our awkward text conversations into cultural, historical, slutty documents. We miss you and your time here taught us all a lesson about love and sex in the modern age. Specifically, how fleeting it can be. Rest in peach.