I just… I find myself wondering if this is it, you know? Like, the grand finale of a life that wasn't exactly what I signed up for, but here we are. It's late. Always is when I do this. Another evening spent in the glow of the monitor, headset clamped on, mechanical keyboard clacking away like some kind of ancient typewriter. Battle royale, of all things. Me, a grandmother of seventy-something, yelling obscenities at teenagers who probably think I'm some angry divorced dad. Is that weird? Does everyone feel this disconnect? I mean, I don't even — whatever. It’s better than watching cable news, I guess. At least here, there’s a clear objective: eliminate the threat. Something I understood, once. My grandkids, they think it’s hilarious. “Go, Nana, get that kill!” they shout when they visit, but they don't really get it. They see a game; I see… well, I see a mission. A deployment. There’s a certain discipline to it, the quick reflexes, the tactical decisions, the absolute focus on the immediate threat. No time to dwell on the what-ifs or the what-could-have-beens. Just the present, the crosshairs, the next skirmish. And when I get a good run, a solid win, there’s a fleeting sense of accomplishment that I haven't felt in… a long time. Not since… anyway. It’s not happiness, not really. More like… a temporary absence of everything else. A brief moment of quiet in the noise. Then the match ends, the victory screen fades, and it’s just me again. Back in this quiet house, the clack of the keys echoing a little too loud in the silence. My fingers ache. My eyes sting. And there’s this flatness, like a desert stretching out before me, the same as it was before I logged on. No real high. No real low. Just… existing. And the thought always creeps in, every single night, after the last enemy is down: is this what I fought for? Is this the peace? Because honestly, sometimes, the chaos of the fight feels more… real. More alive. Is that crazy to say? Probably. But I wouldn’t trade those evenings, not yet. Not when the alternative feels even emptier.