When I was younger, I really enjoyed video games. One series I played quite a bit of was Squaresoft’s Final Fantasy series of games, the increasingly-incorrectly-named line of RPGs which brought wonder and adventure and magic to my Super Nintendo.
I was playing the game called Final Fantasy 3 in the US (I won’t get into the confusing and internationally-inconsistent naming of these games here). I had, over the course of about 50 – 60 hours, explored most of the game. I had a save file that was ready to do the final push to beat the game.
I was not ready to be done with the game, though. I was sick, and uncharacteristically was allowed to play video games in bed, a luxury I was rarely afforded (because my parents knew full well I would just lie in bed all day playing games if I could). I decided to start a new game to play around with before I finished the game on my main save.
Experienced gamers, of course, know what’s coming next. The very first time I saved my game, I saved over my old file.
I went through the five stages of grief over the course of about 10 minutes. It was of course quite painful to lose all those hours of progress. But then after all, I reasoned, I enjoyed playing this game, and now what I had created was more opportunity to play the game.
That game is still one of my favorite games of all time, and over the course of my lifetime I’ve probably played it five or six times. So at the end of the day, no harm was done.
But you best believe I learned to double check which file I was saving under from then one.