Of course I knew how this game ends – it was published a long time ago and many times I heard the names “Arthur Morgan” or “John Marston”. Before I even started, I was hesitant. I played GTA V a bit and watched gameplay from time to time, along with San Andreas and Vice City. Every time I heard about the RDR series I thought it’s not something for me, as I didn’t really get into GTA as much as I would have liked to.

I adore seeing character development and their complicated inner struggles, although I don’t really enjoy being the antagonist of the story – and doing things that don’t align with my strong moral compass. But finally, I decided to give it a try.

At first I noticed a lot of things similar to GTA – the interface, the graphic style… even the way missions are shown on the map. But the longer I played, the more surprised I was… I actually enjoyed it a lot. It has a completely different vibe. Even though I was doing bad things and being a criminal like in GTA V, it felt… just different.

The game was slow-paced and actually made me want to explore the world. One of my favourite games is Death Stranding, so that might explain a bit of my love for “walking simulators”.

I could write paragraphs of praise for the game’s plot, character design, interesting side missions, how beautifully nature was portrayed, the music (I ordered the RDR2 vinyl from the USA, so it must mean something)… but most people already know this game is a masterpiece. So I want to write about something different. About how this experience changed my life. It met me in the time when I was ready to experiance the truth about it and myself. To learn one of most valuable lessons so far.

At first I just treated it as a cool game with a beautiful aesthetic, interesting characters and some action that kept me engaged.

But… then it happened.
The first cough.
The second.

I knew what was coming. And while watching the scene at the doctor, when Arthur learned he had tuberculosis, I cried so hard that I had to close the game.

All of this was happening while I myself had just been diagnosed with a serious, possibly terminal illness. I had already gone through surgery and was still waiting for the next steps of treatment, unsure whether I would receive good or bad news.

Lack of security and fear for the life you have is one of the worst things a person can experience.

The first questions I had in my head when I learned I was ill were:

“Am I going to die soon?”
“What about my dreams?”
“What about creating a family?”
“Was everything I did until now… really worth it?”
“Am I truly happy with who I became?”
“What could have been done better?”
“Were my decisions the right ones?”

I kept asking myself those questions. I still don’t know the answers to them, and maybe I never will. But seeing how Arthur tried to change his life, to seek redemption and follow what he believed was right made me realise something important.

All the decisions I made in the past were the right ones at that moment.

Being selfless all my life and trying to please others so they could be happy was… tiring, but it felt right. I couldn’t live any other way. But seeing how Arthur started to question Dutch’s decisions – noticing that they weren’t right for him anymore and opposing them – made me realise something else.

Life will be worth it only if I follow my own morality. If I live my own life the way I feel is right.

I couldn’t finish this game for two months.

I knew that I had only three missions left with Arthur, and oh how much I didn’t want to say goodbye. I spent around 150 hours in the game because it felt like it wasn’t enough yet. That I still wanted to do this and that as him, that there were still so many things left to experience. I had a feeling that if Arthur died, I would feel empty inside. That I would become hopeless when it came to my own recovery.

So I did everything I could. I completed all side missions, did as many challenges as I could, explored, collected, experienced. I even cursed the game for not allowing us to play as Arthur in the epilogue.

But one day I became so annoyed with myself for postponing the ending again and again. It was getting pointless – the longer I avoided it, the harder it would become to return. And I also felt that Arthur deserved his redemption. That it simply felt right. I also realised that no matter how long I kept playing, it would never feel like enough. The moment we achieve something, we always want to keep moving forward – trying new things or mastering the ones we already know. I hadn’t really thought about it that way before. I learned that sometimes it’s good to be happy with something that isn’t perfect.
Because what is the point of achieving subjective perfection if you are too tired to enjoy it?

I was terrified of that moment. I thought I would cry my eyes out and become so devastated that I wouldn’t even be able to finish the game. But to my surprise, when it finally happened… I felt peace. Yes, of course there was sadness. But there was also inner peace. It felt right.

Arthur did what he could. He died in the end, of course – but aren’t we all going to die one day? He had the privilege of knowing that his life would end sooner than most others. He became aware of his own mortality, and that awareness made him a better person. It was terrifying. It hurt like hell. But in the end he realised what he truly wanted from life and shaped himself into the person he always wanted to be. And I believe it is a much better ending to see him discover who he truly was – and be honest with himself, even if only for a short time – than to see him live much longer in a false illusion of himself. Some people might never experience such a wake-up call at all.

That made me realise something about myself. Yes, I might still be scared of what the future will bring. But that fear doesn’t have to paralyse me. It can become my strength. My motivation. Even though I also have such a “border point” of life approaching – the moment when I will learn what my future might look like – I am not as afraid of it anymore. Because… I did what I could. Just like Arthur did.

He didn’t change the entire world to become a better place. But he changed other people’s little worlds. And sometimes… that is simply enough. Life goes on. Arthur Morgan made me realise that my own mortality might become my greatest strength. And I would rather receive such a wake-up call now than sometime in the unknown future.

Because I want it all to have a reason. Just like Arthur had.
But reasons might differ – and that’s not a bad thing. That is what makes the world diverse. In the end, it is my decision what meaning I give to it.