How I Spoiled Experiences For Myself — And Realized I Lost Care For The Outcome

Spoiler alert… why did I do this to myself? But strangely, I don’t feel too bad about it. Maybe I didn’t lose much.

Spoiler Alert

Ah, the spoiler. The one thing an excited reader never wants to encounter. Just innocently browsing the internet, when a comment pops up about that video game you’re only halfway through.

“THE BAD GUY IS ACTUALLY *[REDACTED]*”

In that instant, the world is torn apart. I had a single chance to experience this work for the first time. Now, any sense of mystery or curiosity has vanished.

One can try to forget. It’s nigh on impossible though, all I think about is when I’ll reach that part. Is there even a point in finishing when you already know what happens?

This happened to me — I was why they happened. I borderline-purposefully searched on the internet — “SPOIL THIS FOR ME.” I knew the risks and inevitability I put myself in, and it was only a matter of time.

Yet strangely, the last times they happened… I wasn’t miffed at all. My experience changed, of course. I couldn’t stop thinking about the leaked information.

But… I wouldn’t say it was ruined.

Self Sabotage

It was a few years ago before I quit, and back when I enjoyed YouTube. I was watching a playthrough of this visual novel-esque game who’s name I’d heard.

(Even though I haven’t mentioned the game’s name, I’ll put a warning — this section has spoilers. Maybe it doesn’t matter though.)

A few episodes in, when the commentators were partway through Chapter 1, it felt interesting in terms of story — and I thought I should experience it firsthand.

I guess exposure does work on me sometimes. Rarely.

I bought the game and replayed the portions I watched. This one character was supposed to be the likable one, I guess. Super cheerful, “shared childhood friend with the protagonist” backstory, and hinted romantic interest — even though we just met a few hours ago.

The whole nine yards.

As a certified sucker, my brain’s a simple one, so the tropes worked on me. I developed positive associations and attachments to this character. While it would make for great narrative drama, I wouldn’t enjoy if something bad happened.

I don’t know how. Maybe I read a comment or something. But I became aware that maybe — just ~maybe~ — she would possibly freakin’ die.

I played more, but this kept bothering me. It lingered in the back of my mind. Would she really die? I kept anticipating it, but nothing happened. If I’d never known, I never would’ve thought of it.

But because I was aware, not knowing was driving me insane.

Finally, I couldn’t take waiting anymore and made a stupid decision — I spoiled it for myself. Stupid instant gratification, social media-addicted brain…

In a journey through fandoms and the interwebs, I landed on the wiki page.

And what do you know…

“Status: Deceased.”

Well, that’s that then. I ruined the story and it's entirely my fault. There’s no point in playing the rest.

Of course, I still did — since I paid for it. And I was only on the first chapter.
But those weren’t the only reasons.

I kept playing and waiting for the big scene. An hour later, it hadn’t come. Two hours later, it hadn’t come. I didn’t know how long the chapter was — how long there was to go.

I was starting to question whether the wiki was right. Maybe I was misunderstanding. Maybe the information was for a mod. Or maybe I was in denial.

At some point, I was genuinely questioning — does she really die in the game? Was that wrong?

Well, I found out a few more hours later, when they revealed her bloody corpse covered in stab wounds. Welp, that sucked.

*inhales* Sigh.

It wasn’t the worst spoiler possible. Spoiling a more critical plot point may have ruined the experience way more. I’m not so sure though. I had to resist ruining the rest though.

I still went through the motions of the narrative. The small character interactions, the rising tensions, the twists and turns. Not much was lost from the preemptive revelation.

I recall two other times I knew the possible outcomes before getting into the story. I read a theory about another game’s plotline, that turned out partially correct.

When I realized those parts played out just as described, I just kinda thought — “oh, they were right.” Because again, I couldn’t know until I experienced for myself.

I often try to guess what’ll happen next myself, so seeing it externally was like outsourcing that.

Stories often follow tropes and structures anyway. There’s narrative designs, like foreshadowing, that literally indicate what may happen next — spoilers to the trained eye.

Sometimes, my hunch is right. Sometimes, it isn’t.

In yet another game, it introduced a character. A super cheerful one, “accidentally assumed to be on a date” even though we just met hours ago, playing some emotional vocal music in the background…

I think I’m just gullable. How do I keep missing these flags?

She was killed off too. Only this time, I wasn’t expecting it at all. I didn’t think this game would have an event like that, and it was really sudden — a detail the main character brought up themselves.

Honestly, I kinda liked it, because this genre usually lacked seriousness. So the death immersed me more into the story. I guess I like themes of angst, dread, and hopelessness — with a sprinkle of lightheartedness.

Mindlessly scrolling the internet, I reach a forum again (stupid social media-addicted brain…). And someone outright spoils she’s alive in the next update, from leaked details. For once, I wasn’t actively trying to spoil myself, so I was slightly annoyed.

Yet I’m not too miffed. Another just evidenced it, I’d already considered the possibility. I still don’t know with certainty how the plot will progress.

I need to see the complex character interactions, the fun events they go through, the quirky dialogue, and moments of solitude. Hell, I’ve played games I’ve watched entire playthroughs of already. While it wasn’t as impactful, it was enjoyable.

This writing isn’t about the spoilers — it’s my realizing the outcome isn’t the end-all-be-all. The ultimate experience doesn’t come from just hearing about it secondhand.

Going through the motions, the highs and lows, the rising action and resolutions. That’s what immerses me into the story. It’s an experience crafted through my perspectives as well — something hardly replicable.

I see connections to my own life in fiction. Fiction allows me to experience what I may never without, but apart from flying space robots, it’s also reminiscent of not-so-fictional situations.

If this applies to a written tale with crazy events and battles, it can apply to my more mundane reality.

To not have life spoiled by what’s dictated will happen by another — but by going through the motions, experiencing and believing for oneself.

To appreciate every point’s importance in the timeline to arrive at one’s outcome. The unique perspectives, paths, and quirks never replicated identically between people, even if they appear similar.

Is this a cheesy retelling of the platitude, “life is about the journey, not the destination?”

Yes, yes it is. It sounded vacuous before — still kinda does.

But I’ve gained a piece of evidence for it — through my own eyes.