Dear Isabella,

I half wrote a letter comparing relationships to dance last night, and then scratched it. It was romantic, but unfortunately we are not dancers, elegantly pushing and pulling. We are gamers. Sweaty, degen gamers playing a dating sim.

You said once you were “trying to push the right buttons” — I like that, because I felt the same. I don’t think I really figured out the levels of your dating sim.

You said you wanted to take it slow, but I didn’t always know what that meant. To me, daily food pics and selfies are a level of intimacy beyond a kiss.

I felt simultaneously that you could ask me “what are we” or “let’s break up” and always felt in a superposition of the two.

The danger of the game is increasing levels of vulnerability: when do you expose your heart, or your flaws, or your failures? It is not never, but it is also not right at the start. Every character needs some progression.

I am, unfortunately, not good at playing the slow game or romancing multiple characters at once. I have tried to wear my heart on my sleeve, while also trying to infer the implicit boundaries that we had.

Could I kiss you on the cheek? How much was appropriate? What was the line? When should I have told you about my ex? Should I have asked about yours? Should I talk more about my family, or my religion—or should we have fun?

I’m not sure, but I approach all of life with the same attitude—you only get rewarded for trying.

But that’s not to say I’m not scared. I am, of course. There are so many ways to play your character wrong. Your character could be too old, or too scarred, or too different. Not the right kind of romantic. Not the right kind of vulnerable. Too religious. Not religious enough. Too assertive. Not decisive enough. Just not right.

Of course, you can always reroll and try again. You have infinite chances.

But sometimes, you get attached to a run. And despite it all, I rather liked ours.

Thariq