You’ve finally done it–you’ve made a friend.
Elden Ring came into your life at just the right time: your passing acquittances with those other games felt so shallow and meaningless, your conversations so dull and lacking; you longed for uninhibited connection.
You heard rumblings about the new guy and his popularity. Your coworkers were enamored, pushing you to meet him.
“You’ll love him,” they said. “He’s just your type.”
Finally, your loneliness became too much to bear, and you worked up the courage to introduce yourself to Elden Ring. You took one look at him and just knew he was the one–his eyes were so very blue. The instantaneous connection you felt was like a perfectly timed defibrillator, jump-starting your long-dormant heart, and for the first time in countless years, you felt warm blood coursing through your veins. You asked him to come to dinner; he accepted.
That dinner was the best night of your life. Elden Ring was the most charming motherfucker you had ever met. His jokes brought your whole family to tears of joy, his stories to tears of sorrow. You felt you had finally found your soulmate.
Later, you arrive home from work and hear strange noises coming from your bedroom. You crack the door and peek inside… and there’s Elden Ring, balls deep in your wife. She moans his name as you slam the door, unable to believe what you’ve just witnessed. You sprint down the hall to your children’s room.; your heart sinks as they look up from the new toys Elden Ring has brought them, and you fail to see familiar glint of recognition in their eyes.
You’ve become a stranger in your own home.
Now, here you are, hunkered down in your 2008 Jeep Wrangler. You watch from across the street as Elden Ring kisses your wife and leaves for work. Your kids are standing at the window of your house, waving and calling for him to come home soon. Elden Ring gets in the car and drives away. You wait 30 seconds and follow.
You park your car by the lake and begin to walk. That filthy concrete structure looms in the distance. You watch Elden Ring as he passes the playground and enters the door to that palace of piss-sodden relief. You grasp the object in your coat pocket ever tighter as you approach. You feel for the frigid handle, swing open that graffiti-marred door marked Men, and there’s Elden Ring, washing his hands at the grimy sink. You slide that cold, metallic object from your pocket, holding it in front of you, fully aware of what it is you intend to do. Elden Ring looks up, spying you in the mirror.
“Turn around,” you whisper.
No reply.
“Turn around,” louder this time.
“Please…,” whispers Elden Ring.
He turns and sees the object held before you. He falls to his knees, the tremor of a sob on his moistened lips.
“I do…,” he whispers.
Your legs fail as Elden Ring catches your fall, wrapping you in his warm embrace. He gently guides you toward the damp, bumpy linoleum, his hand and your heart acting in unison, as one loving entity. You slip the ring over his finger–a perfect fit.
Your lips meet his…they taste just as sweet as you once imaged they would, all those days ago.
You will never let go of Elden Ring again.
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