It is there, lurking, waiting, perhaps even smirking. The last mission of the single-player campaign of Starcraft 2 is waiting for me, sitting on my hard drive like a burrowed Hydralisk, a pair of malevolent eyes poking over the CD tray, a hiss of breath hidden by the whirring fans, waiting for me to go back to the game, at which time it will jump on me, tear me apart and munch on my weakling bones.
It's not so much that "All In" is such a difficult mission, on Normal difficulty at least, with all due respect to the Queen of Blades and the Zerg horde. It's just that I hate/am really bad at (pick one) "last stand" sorts of missions. As a Turtler born-and-bred, I should be thrilled at the opportunity for an ultimately defensive mission, but somehow the constant pressure, the aggressiveness of the opposition and the feeling of doom itself combine to make waiting on the alien artifact an unpleasant experience, somewhat akin to waiting for the dentist to finish with the root canal he's doing on you, only with acidic drool and death shrieks. Quite similar to the dentist's clinic, really.
The fact that the only thing for me beyond "All In" in Starcraft 2 is the hostile, trigger-happy, ranking-focused world of competitive multiplayer is also not conducive for enticing me to get back and finish the job on Charr. The commentated playbacks that flood Youtube only make it obvious for me that I have nothing to contribute to the gaming community there, and being trampled like a confused slug touring Pampalona on the wring day is more masochism than I can bear. Eeww, just thinking of the crunch and squish of that poor metaphorical slug reminds me of zerg buildings and units.
So it's sitting there, and I'm too intimidated to approach, but also too proud to just uninstall the game and forget about it. I'm not able to forget, much less forgive, a game that makes me feel like this. Damn. Like to gunslingers at high-noon, waiting to draw, hands centimeters away from our guns, salty sweat stinging our eyes, Starcraft 2 and I are at an impasse. But any day now, one of us is going to blink, and by Zeratul, It's not gonna be me.