A Breakup Letter to Xbox

Dear Xbox,

I'm so sorry you have to find this out in a letter, but after everything we've been through, I just couldn't handle doing it face to face. I won't beat around the bush or lead you on ... it's over. I would tell you that I'm sorry, but the harsh truth is, I'm not. And I won't give you some corny excuse, like "It's not you -- it's me," because the even harsher truth is that it is you.

You're just not the same console I fell in love with. You've changed, and it's not for the better. Lately, you've been strutting around, bragging to your friends that I'll buy into your changes no matter what, and if I don't, then I can just fuck right off. It's extremely disrespectful and, to be perfectly frank, insulting. You aren't the magical God's gift to gamers that you think you are, and I think it's high time I put my foot down and showed you that I have some uncrossable boundaries.

I can't take your rampant jealousy anymore. The night you came home drunk and bellowed out so that the whole neighborhood could hear you that you would be installing a camera in the house to see and hear everything I do and say ... it was beyond embarrassing. When you were asleep the next day, everyone on the block came over to find out if what you said was true, and I couldn't even begin to defend you. They couldn't believe you gave me that kind of bizarre ultimatum -- that if I wanted to be with you, I had to accept and welcome your spying and total distrust.

And don't think I've forgotten about your other jealous outbursts and attempts to lock me down. It was only a few weeks ago that you were demanding that I call you once per day while you were at work to make sure I wasn't cheating on you. And if I had a friend visiting, you wanted me to call you once every hour to make sure I wasn't letting every person in the neighborhood press my buttons. You said if you didn't receive that call, you'd just kill yourself. What the hell?! It was beyond ridiculous. And yes, I am well aware that you finally came to your senses and took it back, but the damage had already been done.

I understand you've been through some pretty bad relationships in the past. You've had so many people hurt you and use you -- taking from you and never giving back. But I'm not one of those people, and I don't deserve to be treated as if I am. You're acting as if you're a prize that I have to earn, but nothing could be further from the truth. I invited you into my house, not the other way around. I supported you by giving you so much of my hard-earned money. My kids loved you so much, they gave you their time and money as well. But this new you ... you look at us all like we're out to screw you over the first chance we get.

We are not criminals. We are a family who loved you.

I wish we still did. But you make it so hard, demanding more and more of us every time we try to get closer to you. It got so bad that at one point you wouldn't even let me hang out with my friends without demanding some form of payment in return. That isn't healthy in any relationship, and I just can't live like that anymore.

Again, yes, you did eventually lighten up on that rule, but sometimes changes are just too little, too late. What happens if I give in and invest myself in this relationship, and six months into it you decide to change all the rules again? I cannot feed your insatiable greed anymore. And I can't take the chance that somewhere down the line you won't just slip back into your paranoid ways, accuse me of cheating, and lock the whole house down under your iron grip.

In the interest of honesty, I think it's only fair that I tell you this before you find out from someone else ... I have been seeing another gaming device. Not just a random stranger, but one of your relatives. Xbox, I'm sorry, but I've rekindled my old relationship with my PC.

Before you even say it, yes, I know that the PC has flaws and demands of its own. But the PC never tries to be something it's not. It never treats me like a criminal. It is up front with its demands, and at the very least, I respect that. And let's face it, it is so much stronger than you. Not to mention its liberal lack of inhibitions. Just the other day, I played StarCraft II with eight other people. We played all night long, baby, and it felt soooo good. Know how much it cost us? Not a goddamn thing beyond the price of the game. No fees, no microtransactions, no downloadable content. Just us, a game, and the frantic mashing of buttons and keys.

I'm sorry, I know that's mean. I shouldn't have rubbed it in like that. It's hard to not be mad at you after all you've put me through, but I just really hope that you're able to treat the next person you find with respect and dignity. There are literally millions of people out there who want to love you ... if you let them. They are willing to take you in and care for you. They're willing to give you a home and money and attention. But I promise you that if you go into that relationship assuming that they can't live without you, they will very quickly -- like me -- show you that they can.

So this is goodbye, Xbox. I genuinely wish you the best. Take care of yourself. If you ever decide you're tired of living life in the fast lane and want to slow down, trim off some of your monetary demands, ditch your paranoid spying devices, and just hang out with normal, everyday people, give me a call. Until then, I'll be butt-fucking Borderlands 2.

On Steam.

John is a columnist right here at Cracked with a new article every Thursday. You can also find him on Twitter and Facebook.