Dear Canabalt,

I can't do this anymore. I just stopped playing you after two and a half hours straight. When I died, I would just smack the space bar again and start over. All I wanted from you was the Kongregate achievement for getting 5000 meters before dying, and I couldn't even get that.

4946 meters. Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to come that close to finally getting something out of our relationship, only to have it ripped away by the sudden placement of a very short rooftop that I could never hope to have landed on at the speeds I had attained? VERY FRUSTRATING!

But it's not you, it's me. You're so simple that it has to be my fault for everything. If I felt like I didn't jump after having hit the button in time, it must be because I didn't actually hit the button in time. If I felt like I had made it within the range of a window, but instead my character smacked against it and fell in the pit below, then I must have misjudged my jump just the slightest bit.

I can't blame you for any of my frustration because you delivered exactly what you claimed you would, one simple button press and I jump. With such little commitment on your part, it's left entirely up to me to get what I can out of our time together. And that's exactly the problem -- I can't do it. I've come so close to feeling the thrill of success, but have failed each and every time. When I land on a crumbling building and leap off of it just in the knick of time, I feel a rush of adrenaline. Sometimes, when I am running like the wind, and a bomb hits a rooftop I've just landed on, my crappy old computer lags for a second as I'm jumping it. It's like something straight out of the Matrix, and I feel like an incredible badass when it happens.

But ultimately, none of that matters. I always fall short of achieving my goal, and it's tearing me apart. My child has been neglected, and my wife's yelling unheard. When I fail, I immediately hit the button again to restart the game. I can't go on living like this, or I will be a shell of the man I once was. For my own good, I have to leave you, Canabalt. It's the only way.

I hope you understand.

Love,
Alex

If any of you feel sorry for Canabalt and want to take it on a date, just go here.
It's an incredibly cheap date. Free, in fact.

You can find more of my writing on music, movies and more, on Cerebral Pop, as well as those of other contributors.