Dear me, I was…

A woman’s life unfolds in brief, carefully observed scenes, turning everyday memories into a quiet adventure about change, connection, and the people who leave their mark on us. Dear me, I was… favors tenderness over spectacle, following its protagonist through moments of happiness, disappointment, reflection, and growth. Its watercolor presentation gives every location the feel of a moving illustration, while rotoscoped animation lends gestures and expressions an unusually human weight. The result is intimate and melancholic without becoming relentlessly bleak, more like paging through a treasured but imperfect personal journal.

Interaction stays deliberately simple, keeping attention on the story rather than on inventory puzzles or demanding challenges. Players move through a sequence of vignettes, inspect the environment, and perform small contextual actions that carry the woman from one stage of life to another. There is no written dialogue to explain what a scene means; instead, framing, body language, music, and environmental details ask you to read emotions for yourself. The experience lasts less than an hour, making it an evening-length narrative piece rather than a mechanically deep adventure, and its pacing works best when approached without rushing through each image.

What separates it from many dialogue-heavy walking simulators is its confidence in silence. Artist Taisuke Kanasaki’s rich painted style combines with fluid motion to create scenes that feel both stylized and deeply personal, while the theme song “Strange Journey” and restrained soundscape give major transitions extra emotional force. Because the narrative leaves room for interpretation, different players may connect to different relationships and memories, even though the route itself is largely linear. Fans of compact, art-driven games such as Florence, GRIS, or When the Past Was Around should find a lot to appreciate, particularly if they value atmosphere and visual storytelling over challenge or replayable systems.