I’m sitting at her bedside. She hasn’t made a sound since last year, and she hasn’t uttered anything comprehensible since the year before that. I’m not going to lie—I want them to pull the plug; I don’t consider her current state “living”, and it kills me to see her in this state. Her skin is black matte, and when I touch her to search for any sign of life, I can’t help but remember what life was when she was in her prime: she was a fighter—she stood up for herself, and when her critics and competitors would step up she would stand up and hold her ground. Her competitors aren’t around anymore.

The Playstation 2 has been in its deathbed for the last few years, and its last triumph erupted with the release of God of War 2 in 2007. Since then, she has mainly served as a haven for those afraid or financially unable to convert to the next generation—a group that desperately clings to foolish hopes of immortality and salvation in downgraded ports of rhythm, music, Lego, and often terrible movie tie-in games. I pray for these people, for they are destined for disillusionment and a life of wandering in the shadows aimlessly, wondering why Harmonix and Neversoft has forsaken them.

This is the year that the Guitar Hero series of rhythm games, the life support for the Playstation 2, turns its back on the console. She never expected this, but it’s an inevitability that I could never have had the heart to tell her.

So here I am, by her deathbed, resting exactly where she has been since Jack and Daxter: The Precursor Legacy made her a woman. She can’t stand as proudly as she used to, even with the vertical display stand, but it makes for an iconic image. I feel as if I should have taken the younger Playstation 3 out of the room just for nostalgia and respect, but the PS3 wants to be here for this.

 I have an old Guncon 2 in my hand; its knotted cable thickly dangling to my ankles as I sit loosely in a chair by her side. I’m not stupid. I just look at the light gun peripheral as a reminder of better days with arcade shooters like Time Crisis 2. My other hand limply holds a bottle—there’s not much more in it. I look at the PS2, its collection of games and accessories accrued from earlier years when we were younger, and I was full of excitement for the possibilities that came with the last generation of games— and I take one last swig from my bottle.