Dear Candy Crush,
It's been a good three months. What am I saying? It's been a *wonderful* three months. Every day meant another day I'd get to spend with you: new levels, new types of candy, and the old, familiar animated interactions. Seeing you during my days was always a joy, and of course I always looked forward to playing with you at bedtime.
I didn't even mind that you let other people play with you. Or that you asked me for money every time, like a prostitute with a taxi meter. As long as we could enjoy each others' company, I was happy just to be near you.
But lately, I feel like the joy has gone out of our relationship. At first, I just took you for granted, because you were always there, on every device I own. Recently, I've been more likely to curse you than appreciate you. Simply seeing your happy animations was apt to make me shudder with frustration and anger.
So it's with deep sadness that I'm sending you this note to tell you: It's over.
No more levels. No more games. No more lives.
No more candy. No more of that damn chocolate polluting my world.
No more dying-five-times-in-a-row and having to wait for more lives.
No more orders to fulfill while bombs exploded in impossible-to-get locations.
No more playing-levels-until-lucky-combinations-got-me-past-unwinnable-setups.
No more swearing at my tablet.
I'm moving on. I've uninstalled you from all of my devices; you're out of my life.
At first, I thought I could get by with just not playing you as often, but I just kept finding myself going back to your life-sucking trough, dying and dying over and over and over again. I couldn't simply play less if you were still around; I was too addicted to your torture. I've had to get rid of you completely just to get quit of you.
Don't think you can win me back, either - the saved game data is gone gone gone, like my initial crush the first time you killed me five times in a row within a minute and made me wait to try and get killed again.
And don't think this is about someone else - there is no game that can replace you. There is only a hole in my life where my time used to drain. A gaping, bleeding, frustrated hole.
Dear Candy Crush: I loved you once, with your sparkly cartoon animations and you're slightly disturbing 2D characters.
Now get the hell away from me, you addictive whore.