Dear Doom,

I have something to tell you and I don’t know exactly how to say this. All my friends love you. They really, really love you. But, I don’t know, you and I are just not clicking.

You’re beautiful, that’s not the problem. I mean you look great. It’s just, maybe I’m too old for you? Maybe.

It’s hard coming to the realization that something I should love may not be for me now that I am advancing in age. Doom,  you and I should be having so much fun together. All I want to do is destroy monsters and escape hell with you, but it just isn’t giving me the joy it should. Being with you feels like a chore and that isn’t fair for either of us.

This isn’t a reflection of you, obviously, but what does this say about me? I still don’t know why I feel this way and it’s tearing me apart. Am I getting too old for this all together? Am I supposed to look around and see what else is out there or do I just give it up, pack it in, and call it a day?

Who am I kidding? I’m already looking around.

But as for you, my dear, mail-order bride, I loved you before I set eyes on you, but now I’m on to something else. Maybe we’ll get back together and give this thing another chance, but as for now I just saw a tasty little number at my old hangout, PSN, and I think it’s time for me to get back on the market and give it a go.

If you see me and Saturday Morning RPG out on the town, do say “hello.” That one’s a little less easy on the eyes.

No hard feelings,

Kevin

Doom-heartbreak

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