In retrospect, it probably wasn’t the best idea to try and mod reality. Sure, it seemed simple once you got the hang of it. Just change a bit of coding here and there. Make a few alterations to light and color perception, and suddenly you’ve got a green dog. Purple hair. An invisible hairbrush.
But you know that wouldn’t keep you entertained for long. Soon, the adjustments became more complex. You began controlling weather cycles. You made the nights shorter, and then longer. You programmed it to rain over your neighbor, constantly.
Then when you were bored of that, you started modded feelings. Hopes. Desires. Dreams. You changed the fabric of a person’s being. Reprogrammed them.
And sure, she loves you. She thinks of you constantly. You are her whole world and she couldn’t fathom living without you. But she’s not the girl you fell in love with. She’s not the girl you used to play cards with on weekends.
You would give anything to undo what you did to her. To give her back those memories. You sit there behind your screen and you try to rewrite her back to the way she was, but you can’t. Because you can’t remember what you got rid of. All the coding has been intertwined and you can’t tell which parts are yours anymore.
And it’s becoming harder to remember who she was before you did all this. The memories have gotten fuzzy, and all you know is that she isn’t the way she should be.
That isn’t how she used to smile.