It's hard when it comes time to do something like this, especially in public. You think back on the good times, mostly, and it's easy to start second guessing yourself. Am I doing the right thing? Is it really time to move on?

But more and more, it feels like it is.

It was great while it lasted -- a whole year, longer than anybody had any right to expect, and a lot longer than any other relationship I've had. It was intense -- good intense -- a lot, and intense -- bad intense -- occasionally, but what's finally going to bring it to an end, I think, is a sort of boring sameness. We keep dutifully going back to it, you and I, but it doesn't have the same spark. No, no. Don't deny it. You know what I'm talking about. We've learned each others tricks. You're not providing the rush anymore and, honestly, I think I'm as good as I'm ever going to get. That's embarrassing to admit, but it's probably the truth.

Battlefield 2, I'm breaking up with you.

I still love you, of course, and I always will. But I think it's time for me to start seeing other games. One of your annoying habits -- the fact that you keep track of everything -- shows me that I've put almost a hundred hours into us, into our relationship, and all I have to show for it is a pretend gunnery sergeant's rank, a sore palm (oh, wipe that smirk off your face, Battlefield 2) and a bigger back-log. I've loved the time we've spent together, but I'm not growing as a person. You can only shoot someone in the face so many times before the zazz starts to wear off.

Yes, I know there are all sorts of fancy European frilly things I could buy to gussy you up. But I suspect that another trinket, another bauble, would only prolong what's inevitable. You were supposed to be a cheap date from the get-go, sweetheart, but you swept me off my feet and suddenly I'm upgrading my RAM and buying a headset and... It's better that we end it here.

Good-bye, Battlefield 2. You're great, and you deserve someone better -- a whole lot better -- than me. Take care of yourself.

And, um, if I don't find anyone by next weekend, do you mind if I, y'know, give you a call? For old times sake?