I've fallen back in love, and it feels great. My romance with Skyrim last winter - has it really been a year? - was heady and intense, but over the months since it cooled considerably. My levelling up had levelled off. The map markers were all filled in, and all that was left for me to do was maybe consider finally trying my hand at alchemy.
My malaise was deepened, rather than alleviated, by the lacklustre DLC so far. Dawnguard tried to spice up our waning passion by squeezing a perfunctory questline into an already busy map, but leaned too hard on a clumsy gimmick that let me turn into a lumbering Vampire Lord who couldn't fit through doors or open cupboards, as if that was a thing I'd ever expressed an interest in. Hearthfire tried to get me to settle down, offering three plots of land on which to build identical houses that I could fill with furniture, provided I didn't mind having no say over what the furniture was or where it was placed. There was also talk of adoption, but the life of an adventurer leaves little room for watching an eerie digital child loop through the same animations and voice clips over and over.
Just as I'd resigned myself to the thought that it was time for me and Skyrim to part ways, along comes Dragonborn and all the wonder, the thrill, the passion comes flooding back.