I Finally Finished Breath of the Wild (It Only Took Four Years)

"It's just a video game."

That’s what I kept telling myself as I sat on my couch at 10PM, watching the credits roll on my living room TV. I had finally finished Breath of the Wild after four long years of on and off sessions. The soft music was a score I had never heard before; triumphant and epic and yet soft and delicate. A wet blop fell down my face… I was crying. A lot.

Ugly crying.

Snot running down my nose crying. Eyes puffy and red, throat closed up like I just finished watching Saving Private Ryan type of crying. But this was Zelda. It was a video game. I started laughing at my own hysterical reaction and yet... I couldn’t explain the overwhelming rush of emotion that clogged my head and throat. I couldn’t even speak. I sat there, stunned. It was late enough that I don’t think I could have called anyone to explain. Like I needed to talk to someone about how amazing this game was. The entire experience blew be away.

scene from the game (no spoilers!)

Yes, I was happy. I had completed the game. But that wasn’t it. What flooded through me was everything I’d felt on the long, four-year journey that led to me sobbing on the couch. The reason I was crying wasn’t because of the ending—it was the adventure I had gone through to complete it.

All the fun came from exploring the vast open world and living in it. Link had to learn how to cook to regain health, restore stamina, and get power-ups. This was essential for dodging the red lasers of the Guardians that infested the map. Fighting monsters (Hinox, Talus, Molduga, Divine Beasts, and Lynels) took patience and strategy. But the rewards were always worth it.

There was a thrill in finding hidden shrines and solving their tough puzzles. Taming wild horses and naming them was a surprise twist I never expected. Finding the cute little Koroks in the most random places on the map gave me Korok seeds. Those little seeds were able to help expand my weapon slots! How cool!

Uncovering the tragic mystery of Link’s memories took me across the entire map. I explored the water kingdom of the Zora. The desert oasis of the Gerudo. The cold alpine terrain of the Rito. The volcanic land of the Goron, with scorching air that could turn you to charcoal. Each realm had its own culture and species, and somehow, it all made sense together.

Talking to the people in each realm revealed how Ganon's evil had taken root in Hyrule. Yet the theme of every village, stable, and kingdom reflected the spirit of the people. The calm, serene, and happy music echoed their light and laughter—still present in a world that had lost so much. It carried an underlying theme of hope wherever you went on the map. Breath of the Wild created an enchanting world through its sound and style. I knew it was a video game, but the story and characters grew on me like barnacles to a ship. And when the game ended, it all came gushing out.

The ending to the game was peaceful. Hopeful and yet epic in the way that all the greatest stories are. Hyrule was free from Calamity Gannon, and Link and Zelda would continue on to rebuild. What was bittersweet was knowing the adventure had ended.

That’s a theme I’ve come to recognize in Japanese storytelling. Often, there's a dark and emotional heavy subject, but it's explored and told with a lightness to balance it. The best stories don’t leave you feeling yucky and hopeless at the end. Instead, great stories leave you hopeful, and wistful for more.

Breath of the Wild was a phenomenal story.

I 'd even say it’s the best game ever created. And the best game I've ever played.