Dear Call of Duty John,

I remember swearing off video games for the rest of my life and devoting my time to other endeavors after being let down by the hype of the third installment of Master Chief. But then you came along, introduced to me by a friend I made at work, and you rebuilt my faith in modern gaming and you even introduced me to online gaming.

Do you remember going from matches of 1-25 to being able to dominate the field 27-0? I felt like I was on cloud nine, I was a god amongst men. And your single player story was so amazing; I played it over and over again just to relish in the moment of seeing Price kill Khaled Al-Asad and sneaking behind enemy lines to get a shot on Zakhaev in the flashback to Pripyat. And throwing in the airplane mission at the end, a stroke of pure brilliance!

Time passed and another version of you was released. Not being terribly excited about the prospect of having to play another World War II game, I initially left you on the shelf. Eventually, the kind GameStop manager convinced me your newest iteration was worth the time and money. Your single player campaign was just ok, but I enjoyed your multiplayer. In an early match, you introduced me to a future friend and the clan I would call "home" for the next year. We had fun with that crew. Do you remember playing hardcore search and destroy and our buddy killed us all and was kicked when he dropped that live grenade after being noobtubed? Yeah, we still laugh about that.

But, deep in my heart of hearts, I knew our love would not last. Something about your graphics and the gameplay just didn't add up to a lasting relationship. Sure, there was zombies, but once the world had found out you could sink under multiplayer maps and kill, I could not justify a continued affair, especially when your developer moved so slow to fix all of your problems. So, I went back to the age of modern combat, awaiting its next move and spending time with my newborn son.

You came back to me on a cold November night, as I waited until midnight for your release. I went home proud to own my own night vision goggles and to the prospect of playing you for a week straight as I took vacation time from work. But alas, your designers had not thought ahead and your Playstation 3 servers crashed and refused to reboot for two precious days. So, I manned up and played your single player experience only to be crushed by the worst and most confusing storyline I had ever heard. When your servers finally returned, I enjoyed once again fighting with modern weaponry, but quickly became angered by the glitching that was occurring. Happily, your current designer jumped right in and fixed the issues and I continued to play.

Soon, I discovered that my brother had an affair going with you as well, but on the Xbox 360. Wanting to get closer to my brother, we made the difficult decision to leave the clan and moved systems quickly finding in the 360 some better online competition. But in a matter of months you came again in a new iteration.

Standing in line for another midnight release, I was introduced to a new fellow gamer. We played multiplayer in your newest iteration that night and I was introduced to more good friends I have to this day. While your gameplay remained mostly static, I found some of the new features to be a pure joy, using one to recreate my favorite South Park characters...until I saw others using this to hump a pig...and a dog...and a horse.

Your new single player story boggled my mind, using voices I could picture from other major entertainment. I never saw your twist coming and it was a joy to behold once, but it never happened again as I spent hours and hours playing your multiplayer.

Yet another year rolled around and yet another title was released. This time, you returned to your modern setting, hoping to close out a story that had become all too confusing. I demolished your single player experience in less than five hours and finished with an emotionless "meh." It can be impossible to fix a disaster like the modern era's prior entry, so I cannot fault your single player for lacking any emotional gravity.

Your multiplayer, yet again, was good, but was more of the same with a few welcome changes mixed in. The on-line competition continued to astound as newer gamers were born from your influence. But as I continued to play, I found myself wanting...more. But not more of you, I wanted more of something different. As I found my place within a new online community, I became exposed to many titles I had missed in the past while you and I were away killing the digital masses.

Here we are, at the precipice of your next iteration and I just cannot see myself enjoying what you have to offer. We have shared many memories, you gave me my nickname and brought my brother and I together on a level we have never experienced before. But I want to kill redcoats with my new friend named Connor and the voices of Chief and Cortana are calling my name. There is much praise from those who have experienced the Chief's resurrection, I feel it may be the start of a new relationship between us.

While I may rent you to experience your story, I cannot justify a continued affair together. You are still a great game and loved by so many. But, until one of us changes, our affair ends here. Your constant and frequent releases have become more annoying than a girlfreind or wife who can't learn to stop calling while I am at work, I need space to do my own thing and play other games. May you continue to experience long-lasting success in those who love you now and may come to love you in the future. But for us, this is the end.