Minecraft and Me

A couple months ago, David introduced me to Minecraft.  It wasn’t love at first sight, I tell you.  He was a little bipolar with our relationship: always crashing at the start of a new adventure.  But finally, we compromised.  I let him be a little less sparkly and pretty, and he decided to calm down a bit and go with flow.  From then on, we were inseparable.

We would hike together, climb together, explore caves together, and build odd mansions, including a floating pyramid.  It wasn’t all bliss, however, for much of the relationship required hard and diligent work with precise planning of activities.  It isn’t easy to excavate part of a mountain in order to find an underground cave system.  But as it goes, our relationship continued despite prejudice from outsiders.  The others, they couldn’t understand the magnificence in my life that was the result of Minecraft.  How could they?  They didn’t understand how beautiful he could paint mountain landscapes or how many times I've fallen in lava with him.  We needed each other.  Without him I couldn’t exercise my creative abilities, and without me he couldn’t live. 

The Floating Pyramid

I decided that I should build a home to live in with Minecraft, and it was wonderful.  Sandstone walls with brick accents complete with a glass bridge leading to the floating pyramid.  I loved the home, but something was missing.  Something lacked in our relationship, and at first I couldn’t quite pinpoint exactly what that was.  But then, upon some discernment, I realized that I was beginning to grow lonely out of my relationship with Minecraft.  I expressed this concern to David who then invited me to come and live with him.  We built a home together complete with a garden, protective wall, and vast beautiful structures.  David, Minecraft, and I were happy at first, yet Minecraft started to act up.  I guess this three-way arrangement wasn’t quite satisfactory, and Minecraft began to be sluggish.  He started his bipolar ways again, and David and I didn’t know what to do.  So, out of courtesy to Minecraft, we moved out of David’s place and back to our own home.

By this time, I was getting a little tired of the tedious work I had to do with Minecraft.  So, I visited a doctor to see if I could get a little pick-me-up.  He prescribed a new drug called SPC.

Whoa.  I.  Was.  Rolling.  Bam.

My entire world was open to a new kind of wonderful.  Minecraft and I danced in the sky, leaped over tall structures, and had infinite amounts of goods.    Our world became even more elaborate with avant-garde elements that were gorgeous and shiny.  No longer did we have to scavenge in the mazes of dark caves.  We could stay on the surface and focus on our homes.  We were happy and our hardships were nearly non-existent.  All was good.

Despite our happiness, I grew concerned for myself.  Minecraft and I were spending so much time together that I wasn’t doing things I should be like studying and leaving the dining hall where we spent a lot of our time.  My eyesight was suffering from all of his blinding glory and I wasn’t getting enough sleep.  So much and so little time.  I decided we should take a break.

That lasted for about three days.

Said magic.

Minecraft was hurt from my insistence that we take a break.  He stole my SPC for about a week, but then gave it back when he realized that I used it so that we could be even more magical together.

Despite all of this, I am growing a little tired of Minecraft.  We will always have a relationship—he’s the one that delivers me from boredom.  But I am becoming more independent from him, and that is necessary.  We have to realize our limits in any relationship.  I know Minecraft will never leave me willingly, but hopefully, one day, I can leave him.

-K