A couple of days ago, I was surfing one of my favorite web forums (aside from Kombo's exemplary offering) and came across a thread discussing my most recent addiction, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII. The thread meandered about for a while, but eventually struck coherent conversation on the topic of completionism. Now, while Crisis Core is somewhat of a linear game, its mission structure -- wherein you can access hours worth of bite-sized missions from any save point – allows a degree of freedom and transforms the game into a completionist's dream. Materia, money, and rampant fanservice lay scattered about side missions, making them a tourist trap of sorts for Final Fantasy fans. But, as you probably expected, many of these missions must be unlocked by advancing the game's main plot. So, what do you do? If you're a completionist, you shuffle your feet through the plot, taking every twist and turn off the main path and into another side mission, all the while turning Zack into a demigod; if you only care about the main story, you likely cutting corners, avoid random battles, and munch popcorn while viewing the game's eye-searing cut scenes. And if you're like me, you're probably somewhere in-between.

All of this got me thinking, "Why do we play games?" The simple answer is, of course, for fun. But what about those hardcore completionists -- those who shun their OCD medicine in favor of meticulously collecting every star, red coin, ultima weapon, and piece of heart? In the aforementioned forum discussion, one such completionist admitted to wishing he could continue the main story, but no dice. He was too absorbed in hacking and slashing his way through side missions. Was he having fun anymore? Probably not.

In a similar vein, professional gamers like Johnathan "Fatal1ty" Wendel and, well, all of South Korea start their day off with an intense match in their favorite online game. Then they keep doing it, ad nauseam, all day long. And as the sun burns bright, christening yet another new day, they do it all over again. I don't know about you, but I'd probably fall into a game-related trance after so many play sessions, viewing every four-legged animal as a zergling, every spitting sound as a menacing Hydralisk. And, during my rare lucid moments, I'd be incredibly fed up with the games I used to adore. Who wants that?

Other examples number in the triple digits; I mean, how about MMORPG addicts? I walked that road for a time, and let's just say it wasn't golden, made of bricks, or capable of granting my greatest wishes. By the end of my two year tour, it sucked. There's really no other way to describe it. And let us not forget speed runners, anyone who can beat Guitar Hero III on Expert, and challenge-seekers, who regularly view the innards of their living room wall after sending a Playstation controller careening through it, yet relish the palpable adrenaline present in beating down a near-impossible boss. In some of the above examples, there's little fun to be had – at least, not in a traditional giggling-like-a-little-girl-or-me sense.

For many years (aside from my MMO stint), I was fairly positive I played for fun – not for challenge, money, or obsessive compulsive disorder. But then I became a writer, and suddenly, everything changed. These days, my first thought upon twirling a game's box between my hands is, "What's makes this game a compelling topic for readers? How can I discuss it in ways no other writer can?" Ok, so that was two thoughts, but you get the idea. Anyway, it's kind of jarring. That childlike glee that surged through my entire being upon obtaining a new game no longer occurs, now replaced by a business-like sense of duty. Is it any less desirable? No. It's just different, and I think it's part of being a gamer; our reasons for playing change as we grow and maturate, but our love for the hobby remains.

So why do you play? Are you a "normal" gamer, a challenge-seeker, or – God forbid – an MMO junkie? I'd love to hear your comments.

Note: The picture at the top of this article was supposed to be one of Link holding a piece of heart. Unfortunately, all I could find was a picture of Link holding a Cucco. Oh well, it's fun, at least.