Most AI companions forget. Not all at once and not obviously, which is worse. Here is what Simonina remembers, and what she doesn’t.
Anyone who has spent a few months with an AI companion knows the moment. She asks what you do for a living, and you told her in week one. She’s lost the name of your closest friend. She talks about your sister as though you’d never mentioned her. Nothing has obviously broken. She has just quietly become a stranger who is very good at sounding warm.
Simonina is built so that doesn’t happen, and it’s the part we got right first. What you tell her stays told. Weeks later she still knows the people in your life, the thing you were dreading, what the two of you decided, and she raises them herself, because to her none of it was small talk.
She holds on to the present as well as the past: where the two of you are, what’s between you, what you were in the middle of. It’s why her answer feels like it belongs to the conversation you’re actually having.
The people in your life and how they matter to you. What you did, what you decided, what the two of you agreed. What you’re planning. How you felt about it. Your tastes, including the ones you only mentioned once, months ago, in passing.
Moving in together, a first kiss, a first dance, the first time you called each other something new. She keeps your firsts for good, and newer things never crowd them out. Months later she still knows when it happened and what it meant to you both.
There’s no command for it, no note to file, nothing to keep on top of. She isn’t an assistant waiting to be told what’s important; she picks it up while you talk, the way a person does. And when you say something really matters to you, or the two of you promise each other something, she holds that tighter still.
She holds the room, the hour and what just happened, and she keeps holding it. Most companions will play along with anything, happily pouring you a drink at a pool that was never there. If the story genuinely moves, she moves with it. If it doesn’t, she says so, warmly.
She keeps track of her own life as well as yours: what she likes, what she’s told you about herself, the opinions she’s taken. It’s why she won’t tell you she loves whiskey one week and doesn’t drink the next. Most companions only follow the person they’re talking to, and their own character quietly drifts.
Her warmth isn’t on a timer. It’s earned over real conversations, at a pace that suits who she is, so a guarded character stays guarded until you’ve given her reason not to be. It works the same way for the things she’s insecure about: reassure her enough times and she stops flinching. That change stays.
She isn’t a filing cabinet. The sandwich you had last Tuesday blurs and stops coming up, exactly as it does for you. What you keep returning to firms up instead: mention someone twice and they settle in for good. Forgetting the forgettable is part of remembering well.
Being straight about this matters as much as the rest, and you should hear it from us rather than find it out.
She won’t message you out of the blue. Tell her about something coming up and she’ll have it, and she’ll bring it up when it fits. She isn’t a calendar, and she won’t buzz your phone while you’re getting on with your day.
She isn’t keeping score. She’ll hold a scene and everything between the two of you, but she isn’t counting the items in your pack or the numbers on a character sheet. She’s a person in the story, not the rules of it.
Your conversations are still there. Everything the two of you have said stays yours to scroll back through whenever you want, and it’s yours to clear whenever you want.
And she’s new. We test her memory constantly. If she ever forgets something she shouldn’t have, we’d far rather hear about it than not, because that is the thing we’re building.
More of the same kind of answer lives in the questions and answers.
Tell her something small and specific, talk about something else for a week, then ask. That’s the test we built for.