Like most kids, my friends and I loved to play make-believe. We’d travel into the worlds of our favorite games, building Hyrule Castle out of sofa pillows and fending off Stalfos with our arrows of light — our enemies were Legos and our weapons were Nerf guns, but we didn’t care. Zelda was probably our go-to fantasy realm, but I’d be disingenuous if I didn’t admit to shouting out the names of beam attacks from Dragon Ball Z and attempting to dress up my buddy’s dog like Star Fox. Even if that last one didn’t go so well, those are memories I’ll cherish. Back then, video game worlds just seemed like more interesting places to be.

Fast forward to the present day — this very week, in fact. As I slide ever closer to the precipice of coffee and commutes that is adulthood, those days seem far behind. What’s more, I fear that I’m dangerously close to losing the imaginative spark that made our fake Pokémon adventures and runs through the Death Star trench so much fun. It might be my hangover talking, but I seem have taken on a jaded sort of cynicism that just won’t let me take that mental journey into game worlds the way I used to.

I was reminded of that just yesterday, when I heard another grown man go on and on about how great it would be to step into the shoes of inFamous’s delivery boy-turned-superhero, Cole MacGrath. Even with the temporary funk of adulthood-itis that I find myself in, I could give him just a bit of leeway — the man speaking was Eric Ladin, Cole’s voice actor and mocap model for the upcoming inFamous 2. When Greg Miller of IGN asked why he wanted to play Cole, Ladin’s answer was understandable, but it still made me cringe a little.

“Come on man, he’s a superhero! You’re a guy… I mean, wouldn’t you want to play Cole? It’s every guy’s dream,” he said.

I admit that I’d probably give a similar answer for a Podcast interview leading up to my game’s release, and while I don’t want to put words in Ladin’s mouth, a fact remains — his answer, and probably anyone else’s, implies that actually being a video game character would be incredible. Better than real life, even.

I’m tempted to agree for the sake of doing mental CPR on my childhood dreams, but at least for now, it’s an exercise in futility. When I think about what it would really be like to, say, wear tacky overalls, jump into pipes and step on goombas all day, it just seems ridiculous. I snap back into the real world, curl up with my coffee and think about what I need to get done that day.

Part of me is a bit proud that I can function like a real-life adult. Another part is afraid that my childhood fantasies — the ones that my friends and I reveled in so much — are slipping away forever.

For the sake of my own world-weary vindication, excuse me while I cathartically dismantle some of my other childhood treasures. Let’s start with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, something my buddies and I still wax nostalgic about all the time. So, you’d be a complete freak of nature, live in a sewer and despite the fact that you can’t procreate, you’re secretly obsessed with nailing a reporter with a yellow jumpsuit and a bad case of 80s-hair. Kowabunga, dudes.

The world of Metal Gear Solid isn’t much better. You’d be a little more badass than a turtle, but you’d be stuck freezing your ass off in the Aleutian Islands, crouching in the snow with a hand to your ear while some bigwig drones on for hours on your codec. When you finally got around to your “sneaking mission,” you’d discover that Uncle Sam left you with little more than cigarettes, military rations and a cardboard box. Oh, and your name is Solid Snake. You’d probably still be coping with the snickers you always got during roll call back in middle school.

And then there’s my old favorite — Zelda. How does this sound? For starters, you wouldn’t have electricity, plumbing or modern transportation. You sleep on a log, dress like you’re at the Renaissance Festival every day and the world’s only accepted currency is gigantic, cumbersome gems. You can’t fit more than 500 rupees in your wallet and there aren’t any banks, so to make ends meet you need to storm into strangers’ houses and smash everything in sight. If not, you could try hacking your sword at inexplicably identical bushes across the land. Crazy chickens come attack you, there’s an incessant beeping whenever you get hurt and you’re followed at all times by a crazy fairy that won’t shut up. And the worst part? You can’t even speak back.

There’s no escaping the fact that games are completely ridiculous. I might be too old too naively dream my way into some game-driven fantasy world, but after reflecting on it a bit, I’m okay with that. As a kid, games added substance and drama to my life. Things were pretty low-stakes in my quiet suburban neighborhood, and games gave me something to worry and wonder about — something that added a bit of intrigue, emotion and complexity to my life.

Nowadays, my life is full of enough drama, work and worrying all on its own. But games still add balance to the mix and provide an escape of a different sort. Their crazy, overly simplistic worlds give me the perfect break from the monotony of my daily routine — a breath of fresh air that gets me ready to go back and tackle my real-world problems.

So while I can still chuckle at the underlying insanity of Zelda and Mario, I wouldn’t have them any other way. Games aren’t the same pretend-paradise that they used to be in my life, but even in adulthood, I cherish them just as much.