Tiny Diggers – An iPad Construction Truck Game for Kids Age 2-5

Dear World of Warcraft,

I’m sorry, dear, it’s just not working out anymore. I think we need to see other people. I just can’t say it any other way. I remember a time, last year, when it was fun. We had great times together, me and you, but things change. I changed, you changed.

We spent long hours together in the beginning, just the two of us. It was a simple time, we were so very into each other. I’d find a something we could do together, and we’d just play and play until late into the night. You led me into a life of excitement and intrigue. I thought we were going to be together forever and I think you thought so, too. At least that’s what you told me.

It even got interesting when it wasn’t just the two of us anymore. Two people, three people, even five people was, well, you know … It got really different, but good, way, deep down there in “the dungeons”. It was kind of uncomfortable at first, but I think everyone just loved it after awhile. Everyone was a little clumsy at first and didn’t know what to do, but that changed after awhile.

As time went on, we had more toys to play with. I even started to learn to make my own outfits to wear on our play-dates, just to keep things fresh. It was great! You remember, right? I’m sorry, though, but something along the way just started getting kind of weird.

I’d like to say, “it’s not you, it’s me”, but honey, it’s not. Your need to have more and more just got far too strange for me. Five-way was strange enough with everyone trying to figure out what they’re supposed to do, but then it was all about the ten-way. And that was kind of invigorating, but, well, you know, ten people is hard to keep track of. It’s hard to know who’s doing what, but we all have to kind of stick together anyway. I thought I could leave it at that and get used to it, but it just wasn’t enough for you, was it?

No, of course not. You needed more and more. You never seemed to get enough until it was the huge forty-way parties you’d have down in your enormous basement. I found it rather confusing at first, because it seemed like everyone who’d show up really already knew what to do (I though you and I were, you know, close, just the two of us) but I did get used to it. In the end, doing that over and over again was just, well, not my thing, baby.

Sure, the rewards were fun, but really, they were only toys that we could use together at another one of your damn parties. I need something more than just those trinkets

I know you’ll say that we can just wipe the slate clean and start over. That it’ll be you and me, just the two of us, again. But I know you. And you know you. That won’t be enough for you, despite what I say or do. Eventually it will have to be the huge event again, and honestly, dear, I just don’t want that again. I know it can’t last, despite what you say to me.

You’ll always have a place in my heart, but I know you won’t ever change so much, even if you say you’ll cut down on the big parties, maybe invite fewer people or whatever. It just won’t be the same as it was back in the beginning. And besides, what’s up with you costing me so much? Isn’t all the time I spend with you enough?

So this is it. It’s over. I’d say I’d love to see you again, but I’m not sure we ever will. I want you to know I still care and that I wish you a great life. It’s just going to have to be without me.

Love,
Paul.