My dear, sweet, sweet love,
We have been over this before. It will never work out between us.
Sure, we will see eye to eye for a while: We’ll flirt with the idea of a long-term relationship; We’ll wink at each other across the table, slyly brushing the other’s foot while passing the year-long subscription contract; We’ll even spend a couple passionate nights together, completely engrossed in the wild throes of our love, neglecting those closest to us.
But it will never work out – It never does.
It will start as a whisper – a nudge – that maybe things aren’t what they used to be.
Where I used to have rows upon rows of hotbars dedicated to you, I now have two.
Where I used to carefully form strategies over which traits I desired, I now have a simple path to take.
Where I used to agonize over the toughest of quests, I now have an ugly blue rash on my map, indicating exactly where to go and what to do.
I want you to know that these additions (and subtractions) aren’t all bad. It’s just that you’ve changed. I guess I just don’t do well with change.
I still remember the first time I saw you. It was early September, in 2001. I watched your gruff CGI trailer and I sighed. I wanted to snatch you from the crib Blizzard so delicately laid you in.
It was in 2004 that we officially met. I dressed myself in the fashion of an orc warrior hoping to impress you with my shiny armor, and set out to explore the beautiful curves of your landscape.
Before you, I had only known the world of Norrath, and believe me when I say that she was nowhere near as beautiful.
I clambered through the starting zone, desiring to see all you could offer as quickly as possible. The wilds of Kalimdor proved to be a challenge but after varying degrees of HP loss, question (and exclamation) marks, and determination, I finally stepped into the bustling city of Orgrimmar.
Creatures of every race bolted past me as I nervously glanced around, unsure of myself in my ugly boiled leather pants. Messages flashed across my screen and demon horses jumped around me as I spammed /dance on top of a mailbox for you.
But now… Now I step into Orgrimmar and see empty stalls, aggressive gold sellers, and a small community of people feeling the exact same way I do.
Sure, you brought some new ideas in to battle the waves of other frustrated lovers leaving you. Cross-realm zones repopulated areas and brought a little life back, but there was a distinct lack of Chuck Norris jokes in the Barrens, and it hurt me.
I won’t lie to you. I left for a long time. I sampled all the alternatives. But you knew I would come back. I always did. While something was missing from my more recent adventures, at least I had the familiar embrace of your world to fall back into. No matter what you changed, you always had your character, and with it, my e-heart.
Maybe the problem doesn’t lie within your streamlined nature or so many hated changes. Maybe the problem lies within me.
A lot of worlds have come and gone since your birth year. I have explored underwater cities, war-torn remains, and the darkest horrors of the mind. I have traveled through arid deserts and I have braved perilous jungles. I have done it all now. Maybe I am just greedy. I want something new... I think?
I understand you. I really do. I know what you are and I know your potential. It’s why every time there is a lull in my virtual life I scramble back into the safety of your arms. It is why when I jump into other worlds, I can’t help but compare them to you. I know it’s wrong, but I really can’t help it. You may not have been my first, but you are my fondest.
World of Warcraft, I need to unsubscribe (again). It isn’t you – it’s me. Hey, please don’t look at me like that. Please don’t be mad.
Goodbye, my love.
(See you in two months.)