Yes.

I've been saying it for years.

Raspberry tea, anyone?

I am a gamer.

I admit that with both a bit of embarrassment and pride. On the one hand, it is a bit humbling to admit that you are a computer game nerd. That designation carries with it the worst of the nerd stereotypes, and I’m afraid I fit (or have fit) into most of them at one point or another. The deathly pallor, the social ineptitude… at one point, I even lived in my mother’s basement (although in my defense, I moved out because I found a place of my own that charged me comparable rent).

On the other hand, there is something deeply intoxicating about my time spent in games. I delight in my strategy games, and take especial satisfaction in building up my empires and slowly catching my foes in my clever traps… and then watching as their empires are shattered and ground into the pages of history while mine marches on. I enjoy my role-playing games and relish immersing myself in varying worlds in which my characters can become more and more powerful. Until about a year ago, I had never been much of an online gamer.

That’s when a friend of mine turned me onto playing World of Warcraft. Since then, it has been my nearly constant addiction. I have played my online characters when I should have been working. I have played my online characters when I should have been preparing for classes by doing the assigned reading. I have played my online characters when I should have been studying for my finals (and when the final is 100% of your grade for all your classes, that means something).

The funny part is that I don’t find the game itself truly all that fascinating. Like most games, it was entertaining for a brief period of time, but as time has worn on, it has gotten familiar enough to lack the spark that once drew me to it. Fortunately, though, for my enjoyment, and unfortunately for my bank account, the actual content of the game isn’t why I play.

I play because of the people. After playing for many months, I finally discovered a group of people online who seemed to welcome me into their midst and made a special place for me… a place I could call my home. Immediately, I dived into playing with a renewed vigor and intent. Annabellae, Xaoc, Renew, Relief, Dy, and Roweena and others… These are special people to me, and it was their efforts that made me pledge my loyalty to the organization to which we all belonged.

Time has passed, though, and most of my friends have fallen away for various reasons, good, bad, and sad. Of the lot, only two remain. Tonight, I was taught a lesson.

I had been avoiding playing my favorite character simply because the names I once looked for with relish upon signing on weren’t there. Tonight, I signed on with him again, and realized three things I thought I might share.

Firstly, I was being selfish. While I was distressed at the loss of people about whom I had begun to care, I was dealing with that by hurting the few who were left. They could have used my help at times, and I had abandoned them.

Secondly, I remembered why I pledged my loyalty in the first place. Two special people made me feel particularly welcome, even before I had met any of the others. These two people have my gratitude, and are not among the ones who fell away. The two of them were reason enough for me to have given an oath (something I do not take lightly), and are still reason enough for me to renew that oath.

Lastly, Just because my old friends fell away or went on to better places, does not mean that those who replaced them cannot find their own ways to fill my missing friends’ shoes. Those whom I met tonight seem like genuinely good and personable people in whose company I still feel welcome.

It looks like I may be spending a bit more time in my favorite skin… After all, if an old Dwarven priest can’t find room in his heart for a few more, then just what kind of Shepard is he anyway?