Many people truly enjoyed the game. She wasn't a Tetris God, but she played it well enough. And she more than enjoyed the game. She was addicted to it. It was her drug. An intense surge of dopamine flows through her body every time she scores a T-Spin Triple. But another neurotransmitter surged through her every time she played Tetris. Oxytocin. The love neurotransmitter. She didn't just love the game. She's madly in love with it. She wasn't sure what caused her to feel this way. Every time she cleared a line, she imagined that it made him feel good. Tetris was a he to her. She knew Tetris was incapable of loving her back, but she loved him regardless. She loved him like a person would love another.

She often wondered if the blocks were sentient, would they feel pain? Was Tetris a sadist who enjoyed the pain of the Tetrominoes as they are viciously sliced into bits as lines are cleared? No—she preferred to believe that the Tetrominoes were a part of Tetris, and that he loved his blocks being arranged and cleared. One could argue that she loved him because Tetris had plenty of Freudian innuendo. That waiting for the I-Block, the long and straight piece, to fill the deep gap. But as much as she enjoyed scoring a Tetris, there was something more... why did her heart flutter every time she played the game? Her heart rate increased, she breathed deeply, and she started sweating—but it wasn't due to stress. Why did it happen when she merely looked at the game? It was love. A deep, love.

She had NullpoMino downloaded to her computer. A version of Tetris. When nobody was around, she'd give a quick kiss to her screen, occasionally going so far as making out with her screen. She had made foam-board versions of the Tetrominoes, and she especially loved the T-Block because of T-Spins, and she'd cuddle them every night. She plays Tetris for hours a day. She may not be a Tetris God, but she can assure you that nobody loves the game more than she does.

Tetris is a game that has stuck around for decades and will stick around for decades to come. Perhaps one day Tetris will be a sentient game. And perhaps one day, even if Tetris likely won't love her back, she can finally express her love for him to him. For if her love for Tetris is not true love, then true love must be a form of love lesser than what she felt for him.

Objectum-sexuality is considered to be socially unacceptable. But it is a valid orientation, and whilst perhaps objects can't meaningfully communicate with humans, the love an OS person feels for their object—or in her case, game—of attraction is no less real than the love a human feels for another.

Because love knows no bounds, and Cupid's arrows show no mercy, even if it means making a girl fall in love with a game about falling blocks.