The makers of Grand Theft Auto V were probably looking to evoke a lot of things from the game’s players throughout its single player story. The game has no shortage of crime, vulgarity, grit, and juvenile humor. I wonder if they meant to convey such a resonating notion of friendship and loyalty. It could very well be my ability to pick up things that probably aren’t even there at play, but you never know.

There’s a part of the story where one of the supporting characters has gotten themselves into trouble, again, and they subsequently need saving. At first, I hated the idea of going to help this character. This character’s screwed up so many times and seemingly just didn’t want to learn, so why should the character you’re controlling at the time bother helping them? They’re just going to get themselves in trouble again. It seemed like a waste. It, to me, logically made more sense to just write this character off and move on.

But you don’t get that choice, so you have to go over and help this character out. Gunfights and calamity ensue, but you’re able to save this character. Instead of offering much in the way of thanks, the saved character almost starts criticizing the character who saved them. Accusing them of forgetting where they came from and only looking out for themselves. There’s a bit of wounded pride in the subtext, like this character felt abandoned and had to make due on their own.

I wanted my character to just shoot this character in the face right then, but again it wasn’t an option. Later on in the story, the saved character needs to help the main character, and he offers up his services without a moment’s hesitation. All squabbling was put aside and he was ready to stick his neck out at a moment’s notice.

Before, I had so heavily focused on the lack of intelligence and efficiency this character had in going about things that I could not see the concept of friendship and loyalty. In that, I got a lot of insight into how I look at the world. After the supporting character helps the main character, there’s a mutual sense of family and unity. There’s even an ‘I love you, bro’ thrown in there which was somewhat surprising.

It made me think that maybe it’s not about how many times people screw up, or how often they’re prone to screwing up. It’s more about being there for each other when the other needs help. The logical side of me can only push this idea but so far, but it’s really brought to light my track record of not being the most forgiving person ever.

I’ve, historically, been pretty quick to write people off. It’s not something I’m particularly proud of, but it’s true and I wouldn’t be growing as a person if I flat out ignored it. The scenarios and situations all vary, but some are more arguable than others. All of them, however, probably could have lead to salvaged relationships had I only stepped back from my position on whatever the topic was. It’s a curious realization to make.

I hold such high expectations for myself. I’m kicking myself for not having set up asynchronous client updating based on SQL database changes for the website version of the DM RP system I’m writing, and I don’t allow myself to realize that sites like this are usually developed by TEAMS of people who have YEARS of experience and that some might find it to be pretty remarkable that I’ve gotten as far as I have in the time that I have. But I don’t feel any comfort or pride in that. I want to be able to figure this stuff out. Now. And anything less than that is a failure of some extent.

And that sense of being a perfectionist and having what are most likely unusually high standards have bled over into my expectations of other people. Looking back, there have been times where I’ve flat out expected someone to read my mind and that’s not fair. There have been times when I, even now, still feel like someone made a pretty big mistake, but I didn’t do much to offer forgiveness or understanding. I either walked out of their life or I let them walk out of mine without much resistance over either outcome.

And that’s really not a way to live. At least, it’s not the way I want to live going forward. People make mistakes. I sure as Hell have made my share. Some people have lapses in judgment. Some people don’t see other perspectives. Some people don’t see the extent of the damage their actions can cause. I’ve been one of these people in every instance, so who am I to feel like others can’t be?

I think the emotional wall I usually keep up has done a lot to bar me from showing that kind of forgiveness or understanding. Sometimes I’ve leaned too heavily on pride when I should have just said, ‘Hey. That hurt my feelings’. Again, not something I’m really proud of. I’ve lived so much of my life looking at things with this logical lens with a firm barrier up between me and the rest of the world that it’s hard to have any other perspective. This whole ‘letting people in’ thing is pretty hard for me. It’s something I may struggle with for the rest of my life, but that’s a struggle I want to take on.

I want to give a damn about people, and I want people to give a damn about me. The people who are worth giving a damn about, to be specific. I’m not trying to gather everyone’s favor.

I think about some of the people I don’t talk to anymore sometimes. I don’t really see myself reaching out to any of them. They probably have formed solidified opinions of me for one reason or another, and in their mind they’re completely right in having it. I think about whether I’d be willing to mend some of those fences, or if it’d even be possible. I’m honestly not sure. Whether or not I speak to them again, the time I knew them serves as an experience I can grow and learn from.

A game about senseless violence and destruction taught me that it’s more about weathering storms with the people who care about you than it is to be right or wrong.