I never thought this day would come so soon. In my mind it would be months, even years before these words flowed from the tips of my fingers: today I began playing Skyrim.
Here’s the thing. I’m not a gamer in any form of the word. In fact I am so pathetic that I can barely play Brawl with Jered and Brian. Growing up, my encounters with video games were few and far between and until recently that didn’t really bother me. Now I need to make up for all my lost time so that in the future I can actually play next to Jered and be a partner rather than a liability.
Playing Skyrim is one of the most stressful situations to be in, not even just for me. Jered watches me play and has to physically restrain himself from taking over because of how awful I play. But at the same time it’s thrilling fun. Weird how that happens, huh? It’s a huge mix of guilt, anger, tension, and enjoyment all rolled into two hours of playing. And addictive. Right now I want to go play more, I just completed a retrieving a golden talon for a merchant in a side quest and I now need to return it to him. But the times in which I can play revolve around floor hours and Jered completing his homework. I hypothesize that I shall only be playing Skyrim on the weekends.
I know, I know. They are just video games. In the end, yes, that’s all they are. But they are also a fantastic experience, a whole new realm to discover with challenges to overcome, to rise up triumphantly in the end. Of course I am far, far, far from anything triumphant.