
I’m feeling completely worn out and frustrated with my boyfriend. All he seems to do is go to work and play video games. He constantly complains about his job but then spends every spare minute glued to the console.
On his days off, he’ll sit there for 8 to 12 hours straight, completely absorbed. And when he finally does step away, it’s like his brain has turned to mush. I’ll try to have a conversation with him and he’ll say “what?” five times because it’s like he’s not even there.
We’ve always had a strong relationship and things are still good between us physically, but this obsession with gaming is getting really hard to ignore. He wasn’t always like this. Now, he’ll literally walk away mid-conversation to go back to the game. I’m left standing there thinking, “Hello? I’m right here.”
I do appreciate that he’s not one to spend his free time at the pub or doing something worse—but the truth is, he doesn’t really do anything anymore except play games. We have a dog, and she clearly prefers me because I feed her, walk her, take care of her. He gets annoyed that she doesn’t listen to him or want to play with him, but why would she, when I’m the one doing all the work?
Am I wrong for wanting to say something? To tell him, “Life is happening—with or without you—while you’re stuck behind that screen”?
Part of me wants to talk to him, and the other part wants to just smash the bloody console. I hate that this is making me feel so disconnected. I’m not even sure what kind of advice I’m looking for... I think I’m just completely over it.
Kindred Keri says:
Oh sweetheart, I feel the weight in your words—and I’m so glad you reached out. You are not alone in this, and no, you are not being unreasonable or ungrateful for feeling the way you do.
You’re describing something so many partners quietly endure—watching someone they love slowly retreat into a virtual world, while the real one, the shared one, starts to feel lopsided. You’re carrying the emotional labour, the responsibilities, and even the connection—for two. That’s a heavy load for one heart.
It’s clear you love your boyfriend. You’re not coming from a place of malice, but from longing. You miss him—the present, engaged version of him. And it's no wonder. You’re trying to have a relationship with someone who’s barely looking up, and that leaves a person feeling invisible, even when they’re standing right in front of you.
Now, let’s talk gently but truthfully. What you’re seeing is someone possibly using video games as a coping mechanism. He’s unhappy with his job but isn’t taking steps to change it—perhaps because the game offers escape without risk. It’s easy. Predictable. Rewarding in ways real life isn’t right now. But the problem with escape is that if you stay too long, you stop showing up where you matter most.
And my dear, you do matter. You deserve to be seen, heard, held—not paused like background noise when the controller’s down.
So here’s what I suggest, from one kindred heart to another: *Talk to him.* Not in anger. Not with ultimatums. But from the soft place in your soul that misses him. Say, “I love you, but I feel like I’m losing you to a screen. I miss us. I miss you. And I want us to reconnect, but it can’t happen unless you meet me halfway.”
Give him the space to hear that, without judgement—but with clarity. If he’s willing to reflect and make some changes, you may find your way back to each other. If he doesn’t? Then it’s not selfish to re-evaluate what kind of partnership you’re in. Love should feel like a dance, not a solo act.
And as for your pup—bless her furry little instincts. She’s already shown you who’s showing up.
Don’t smash the console, love. But don’t smash your own needs to keep the peace either. You’re allowed to speak up. You’re allowed to want more. Because you deserve a love that logs in, not checks out.