My brother and I played Mega Man all night every night for a week one summer when we were kids. We were staying at a condo at the beach with our parents for vacation and the game was there, plugged up to a small TV in the corner of the bedroom we shared. We sat on the carpet between the bed and the wall, a foot away from the screen. Mega Man was an old game at that point, on a system that had been released the year I was born, but we played it anyway because we loved video games; we were very different and that was one of the only things we had in common. We loved the way they made other worlds where all sorts of impossible things could happen. We loved playing them and watching other people play them and, most of all, we loved beating them, to feel what it felt like to win.