I am an introvert by nature, an oddity to society. I play games alone, in fact, I prefer it that way. My most memorable experiences, however, are from playing multiplayer with my buddies. Few video game series let a significant mark in my life, paralleling me in expansion and growth. However, one managed to do this: Halo.

Now with all my talk about Halo being such an important part of my life you would think I bought every title, have three Halo 3 posters on my wall (only one) and have a Brute’s corpse hanging from my wall. But, here is my confession: I have never owned a single Halo title. I pretty much mooched off my friends to get my Bungie fix over the years. This has led me to have some of the best--memorable, and dear to my heart--- gaming sessions of my life. My journey to the mythical rings, battling the Covenant and Flood, parallels a significant aspect of my life.

You see, I am an introvert; I never had many friends. The ones I had, however, were the best a guy could ever come across. Usually, gaming was the hobby we had in common. I must mention this has been a trend throughout my life: I bonded with every male friend through video games. Both friends and this entertainment medium remain a vital part of my developmental process. Bungie’s Halo marked a pivotal time in my existence. That is, a point where I was beginning to feel comfortable in my skin as well as open up to others more.

In 2001, Halo: Combat Evolved landed on North American shores. The game was a commercial success, so, yes; it was the talk of the town.  The title was nothing short of a failure in my book, though.  The game didn’t jive with me. Where was the wow factor that addictive hook?  Perhaps my dislike had something to do with the game’s overpowered pistol; the fact my friends mastered the game in a few short days and they beat me in every match; maybe I just sucked at first-person shooters.

But what I do know is that I didn’t enjoy the game.  My closest friends, however, loved Bungie’s retail hit. They couldn’t stop talking about it.  I longed for the good old days of Golden Eye 007--which remains as my favorite multiplayer shooter of all time. Nostalgia has a way with us gamers and I was no different.

Unlike the days of 007, where my conversations rested solely on the Golden Gun round that just went through my friends head, I began to talk more about myself during the Halo sessions. I could pin it on adolescence, a time when human beings desire acceptance by their peers. But, not to sound too grandiose, it was something extraordinary. The social aspect of playing Halo’s multiplayer magnetized my base instinct to want to open up to people a little more. It just had that effect on me and the sequel drugged out this part of me more than the original.

Halo’s sequel, aptly named Halo 2, drops in 2004. The title is a controversial game for some. It seems like people averted from the single-player because they didn't want to play as an alien creature. What? Come on, really guys? Anyway, I played it (once again at a friend’s house) and it is a blast and stark improvement over its predecessor. Strangely, at a time when aliens were in, I felt alien to myself. I guess that is what puberty does to you, personality changes. I’m not talking a massive upheaval or anything, just simple things. I shared more about myself to my friends--not too much, but a lot more than times past. And definitely a greater amount than in our original Halo sessions.

I spoke up for myself more often to the surprise of those around me. Those around me dubbed me the bold guy and my playing style in Halo 2 reflected this name, for better or worse.  I charged in to the battlefield to the delight of snipers. I abused the Needler further distinguishing from my circle of friends in the game. I wouldn’t call it Combat Evolved or even Life Enhanced or something glorious like that. But this was a refreshing part of my life just as Halo 2 refreshed the series at the time.

The Xbox 360 comes out a year later. I panicked, because I couldn't afford the $400 price tag. People started seeing strange red rings of light on their consoles. I imagine them as mini crop circles on the latest piece of hardware or the apocalypse. I’ll take the non-threatening crop circles. Speaking of threats, the megaton, Halo 3, didn't meet the system’s launch and wouldn’t scare gamers with its $60 price tag for another two years.  I looked forward to playing Bungie’s next guaranteed hit. But in the meantime, I spent my days on Halo 2 with my friends many of whom could not afford Microsoft’s latest console.  

Unfortunately, I didn't spend much of my 24 hours partaking in this activity. I fell upon some hard times around the time of the console’s launch. The stress of senior year of high school and preparing for college the following school year and top it off with betrayals from people I trusted and you get the recipe for depression.  My growth stopped. Most days I felt so down, I didn’t even feel like playing video games --something I love doing by the way—let alone see anyone.  Even through this period, I still thought about the fun and intense matches I played with my friends.

I just recently played Halo: ODST and Halo: Reach’s beta with a friend of course. I think these games –well, ODST at least--will become markers for a moment in my life. This is a moment where I am still growing as a person, still creating a human being. That is what life is about isn’t? I think when I reach a ripe old age and get all nostalgic with my friends about the good old Halo days, they will still be the best pals. Then I could say why I bought a Xbox 360 and Halo Reach in Fall 2010: the memories with my Spartans in arms and the lasting influence the series had on my life.