It has been several weeks since I've finished Enderal.
In retrospect, I hate the game. It was one of the most splendid, fantastic, wonderful games I have ever played in my life, and I could not hate it more for that fact. I've been unable to muster up the conviction and willpower to double-click the Enderal icon that still leers at me from my desktop. It remains installed, because I can't bring myself to uninstall it. I envision myself double-clicking that icon, getting to the main menu, and being paralyzed between the cathartic choice of creating a new character or reviewing the exhaustive compilation of my save game files - which I can only imagine would evoke emotions similar to flipping through the diary of a tragically killed former lover.
I hate Enderal, because I am confident that I will not get to experience the type of game that Enderal was for a very, very long time to come. As a gamer, I feel like Enderal spoiled me in ways that were unhealthy. Something akin to the miserable spiral of someone of modest means who wins the lottery and is immediately thrust into a world of immense wealth and uncertainty. It is a curse that fulfills the promise - "May you get everything you want." The borders of experience are pushed back, and not so elastic as to satisfy with run-of-the-mill games that scrape by on the most minimalist of content and narrative.
I feel a small sense of guilt having reviewed the game, now. Inflicting this on others, and fully well-aware that anyone who gets deep enough will be fundamentally changed and somewhat ruined for other games for a significant amount of time. Guilt and sadistic glee both, I should amend. Suffer, as I suffer, and witness Enderal.
-JP