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Coffee: Hi Honey! How was your day?
Stage 1: Shock or Disbelief
We all “grieve” in our own way. The important thing is to remember that this is a very natural process and we must work through it until that moment comes. That moment where you say, “Maybe this gaming thing isn't so bad.”
I mean, if you really think about it, it’s kind of like dropping your kid off at the sitter and you can get the things done that you want to get done without interruptions. It gives me my much needed “me time”, where I can read, do some cleaning, browse my Facebook. Heck, I even started my own blog!
And sure, there are the incessant ramblings about so-and-so getting scammed and insert-name-here pulling a total dick move. Usually these conversations – after careening on about three sub-tangents – end with me holding up one hand and asking where the heck we’re going with this story.
Ryan: If you want a true test of his love: make him rename one of his best EVE spaceships after you.
Stephanie: He named a character in EVE after me, I'm the head of a corporation ... and apparently now I'm getting a ship for my birthday.
Ryan: ;) He really, really, really loves you then ...
or, continue reading the original post below!
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Football widow [foot-bawl wid-oh] noun. A woman who must cope with the temporary death of her relationship during football season.
EVE widow [eev wid-oh] noun. Similar to “football widow”; however, this woman is less fortunate since her widowhood is not restricted to just the fall season – she must learn to cope year-round.
Hello. My name is Stephanie, and I have been an EVE widow for 2 years. But it wasn't always this way. You see, Coffee and I have been together for 10 years, married for 7 of those. And over the past decade there have been several mistresses: First it was Halo, then along came World of Warcraft. And yes, there were even others before he found EVE (here’s looking at you Elder Scrolls and Left for Dead).
Sure, one could argue that I should have been well aware of what I was getting in to; but there really was no adequate amount of groundwork that could prepare me for what was to come.
Here is a typical conversation that takes place when I get home from work:
Coffee: Hi Honey! How was your day?
Me: Oh, it was good – same old, same old.
…
Coffee: Guess what happened today?
(In my head: You cleaned the house? You started dinner already? You bought me something shiny?)
Me: What happened today?
Coffee: When I logged on to EVE …
(In my head: Should have known.)
Now I’m not saying my husband trying to spend every spare moment on EVE is a bad thing, although it took me a while to get to the level of understanding I am at today. I’ll admit, at first I loathed his role-playing games. I mean, we have a lot of things to get done and that honey-do list ain't gonna do itself. I guess the best way to put it would be to say that I went through my own sort of grieving process. For those who aren't familiar, there are seven distinct stages in the grieving process.
Stage 1: Shock or Disbelief
OMG. What have I done?! Did I really marry one of those, those gamers?!
Stage 2: Denial
Addicted? No, no it’s nothing like that. My husband’s not addicted to video games.
Stage 3: Bargaining
Maybe if I find a bunch of things for us to do, then he won’t think about his game so much.
Stage 4: Guilt
I shouldn't give him so much crap for all that time he spends on his game; after all, it’s his outlet, his way to let loose.
Stage 5: Anger
OK, I think he’s “let loose” enough … The trash isn't going to take itself out. The bird poop isn't going to wash itself off my car. The lawn isn't going to stop growing at exactly 1.5 inches in height.
Stage 6: Depression
My husband loves his game more than he loves me.
Stage 7: Acceptance and Hope
You know what? To each his own. It’s good that we have our own hobbies that keep us true to ourselves.
We all “grieve” in our own way. The important thing is to remember that this is a very natural process and we must work through it until that moment comes. That moment where you say, “Maybe this gaming thing isn't so bad.”
I mean, if you really think about it, it’s kind of like dropping your kid off at the sitter and you can get the things done that you want to get done without interruptions. It gives me my much needed “me time”, where I can read, do some cleaning, browse my Facebook. Heck, I even started my own blog!
And sure, there are the incessant ramblings about so-and-so getting scammed and insert-name-here pulling a total dick move. Usually these conversations – after careening on about three sub-tangents – end with me holding up one hand and asking where the heck we’re going with this story.
But there are also moments like this one from my husband’s Facebook status update circa October 23, 2012:
“Happy Birthday to my favorite person, loving wife, and all around best woman on the planet!”
Stephanie: Awww, babe! You make it sound like I hacked your account.;) (For all you readers out there, I did not). Love you!
Ryan: If you want a true test of his love: make him rename one of his best EVE spaceships after you.
Stephanie: He named a character in EVE after me, I'm the head of a corporation ... and apparently now I'm getting a ship for my birthday.
Ryan: ;) He really, really, really loves you then ...
Stephanie: Indeed.
If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.
I suppose I should thank my lucky stars he’s not sitting around playing Angry Birds or Candy Crush. I like the concept of EVE. It’s about the rise and fall of industry. It’s about carefully calculated warfare. It’s about star systems and spaceships. It’s political. It’s scientific. It’s so many things that other games just aren't.
And let me tell you, there’s nothing quite like walking into the house and, for a split second, wondering why there is a deep German voice coming from your office. Then, oh yeah, TeamSpeak.
I think that’s one of the aspects I find most fascinating about the whole gaming experience. Not the deep German voices – but the fact that players around the globe can connect and coordinate their efforts to accomplish missions. I’m pretty sure that, with the exception of Antarctica, my husband has gotten to know people on every continent. How cool is that?
Sure, there are the days I worry that my husband has somehow developed Tourette's. Nothing like sitting in the dining room when all of a sudden a burst of colorful language comes barreling from within the other room.
And there used to be a time when, if dinner was ready, I would wait for my husband to “get to a stopping point” so we could sit down and eat together. Not anymore. If dinner’s ready and he’s too wrapped up in his game, well, sorry buddy, but I’m starting without you. I will not eat my dinner cold.
And let’s not forget all those times when I think I’m having a conversation with my husband. You know, after talking for a minute or so and pause only to be greeted by silence. And only after deepening the intensity of my stare so much that my husband can literally feel my vision boring into his head does he respond with a simple, “What?” Doh! Have you heard anything I've said?!
But that’s part of the give-and-take of it all. It’s the ability to let one another be free to do the things they love. It’s about finding humor in sometimes frustrating circumstances. It’s about finding balance.
Because when it boils down to it, one fact remains: The Coffee really does Rock.
Thank you to my wonderful wife, Stephanie, for surprising me with this guest submission. She writes her own blog, titled "Mr Jackson and Me", about living large (on a tiny budget). You can also follow her on Twitter @symcatee
I love you, hunny! P.S., I'll get the dishes done tomorrow, the bat-phone is ringing...