I Love You, Hundreds – But It’s Over

Oh, Hundreds. It’s sad to see it end this way.

Don’t get me wrong, I never thought we were going to last forever. At the beginning, I rather figured we’d keep things casual and see each other every once in a while. I suppose I wish I’d known what the future held before we started getting serious.

It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate everything you had to offer—but we’d be lying to ourselves if we didn’t admit that we spent most of our time together in bed. And they were mostly good times. We’re all adults here; I think we can admit that things between us were more than just physical. Before we hit Level 83, I started to think there was a chance we’d go all the way.

We had our rough patches, sure. Let’s not talk about level 22, or the indecipherable statistics you always tucked away in the bottom-left corner of the screen after one of our little trysts. I’ve already told you that I’ve forgiven the passive-aggressive way that your clunky cipher puzzles would reset back to their default gibberish if I stopped paying attention for even a second – God, you were always so jealous of my attention.

That’s not to say I was never jealous. We both know I envied the way you ran with a hipper crowd than me. We both know you didn’t share the parts of yourself with me that you thought were a little over my head. Believe me, none of it ever really mattered – we had balance, you and I, and I was actually happy to be the cheesesteak to your foie gras.

But we just couldn’t overcome Level 83.  I blame myself, sometimes – I apologize for my clumsy, ham fisted approach to problem solving. Obviously, I never should have tried working things through over the phone. I just felt like you were setting me unavoidable traps – bursting my bubble anytime I’d make any sort of progress; absolutely flying off the handle when I’d try to look at things another way. I tried to reason with you like this for a solid week – I felt our irreconcilable difference hanging over me literally everywhere I went. And one day…well, I guess I just stopped trying.

I regret that it has been so long since we spent time together, but that’s why I had to write you this letter. We never really had a chance. It was always going to come down to Level 83.

Please, no tears. I know there’s someone special out there waiting for you.

Someone with smaller, more nimble fingers. And probably an iPad.

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Dan Apczynski would love to hang out and get coffee on Twitter at @DanApczynski, but he’s not really looking for anything serious right now.