My Platonic Love Letter to Krobus by Sam Lesek

1000 words, 5 minutes reading time
Issue 3 (Fall/Winter 2023)


It's instilled in us at an early age to desire a partner; an individual who will work with us through life's stages, to be with us as we age,  a romantic Prince Charming for every damsel (or vice versa), someone to ride off into the sunset with. Just as our culture tells us it's necessary to desire a partner, it also rigidly informs us what a 'real' or proper partnership should be. That is, a cis-heterosexual coupling driven simultaneously by lust and romantic love.

Stardew Valley situates its players in the quaint and pastoral setting of Pelican Town, where you are tasked with escaping the bustling city in favour of maintaining an abundant farmstead left behind by your late, in-game grandpa. Like other farming simulators, establishing lasting relationships with the locals is emphasized through gift-giving, character exposition à la cutscenes, and of course, the ability to partner up with Pelican Town's many bachelors and bachelorettes.

Although there is an array of singles to woo, Krobus, the sewer-dwelling shadow person, stands out as an uniquely platonic option. The player can befriend him at a later point in the game, usually via the compulsive gifting of spicy horseradish foraged in Stardew's lively Cindersap Forest. Once the player has maxed out the friendship, they can then ask Krobus to move into their farmhouse with them in a manner that's akin to proposing to one of Pelican Town's bachelors or bachelorettes.

Functionally, there's little difference between Krobus and any of the townsfolk one can wed. He will live in the player's house, making one room his very own, customized to his distinct, supernatural tastes. He will gift the player with food and express gratitude for the player's presence in his life. Krobus will even help raise a player's in-game children, if the player has previously lived with a spouse and had them.

While befriending Krobus may be a novelty to many players,  he has the potential to represent a warm and fulfilling platonic partnership (who wouldn't want to live with a cute shadow creature?), especially a queer-platonic relationship (QPR), to players who may be less romantically inclined.

Prior to the discovery and identification of my own aromanticism in my early twenties, I puzzled over what my ideal partner would be like. I knew, based on North American society's concept of what 'real partnership' is, that my hypothetical 'better half' should be someone who I liked romantically. What this exactly meant for myself was hard to define. I already knew that I was asexual by this point in my life, so I chalked up my inability to imagine this hypothetical person to a de-prioritization of physical attractiveness. I expected the arrival of this individual in my life to be marked with a fanfare of signs that others told me about: butterflies in my stomach, thinking about them 24/7,  exaggerated blushing, etc.

Even as a child, it seemed that my idea of a boyfriend had been informed by what everyone else had told me, except with a PG rating. I thought the person you married was the boy in your class that you wanted to be friends with because they seemed cool. That's it. I thought I 'liked' Aidan because he burnt copies of Warcraft for me and I thought I 'liked' Scott because he was the only other person who appreciated bad b-movies.

By the time I got to my twenties, when every other twenty-something was dating or trying to date, I began to notice that I didn't seem to care. In a last ditch effort to find my inner romantic, I signed up for OkCupid mid-exam season. I matched with a very sweet, seemingly compatible guy with many shared interests, but couldn't bring myself to go out with him when he finally asked. Something didn't feel quite right and I began to ask myself why I felt like I needed to date someone to begin with. I couldn't wrap my mind around why one particular type of love was more important than the rest.

Once I realized that I didn't require a romantic partner, I shed the desire for one like an old skin. Queer journeys of self-discovery often start with feelings of self-doubt and isolation in the face of a cis-heteronormative world. From this doubt ultimately springs forth self-fulfillment and meaning, the nourishing of one's self and community, and an acknowledgement that life is far more nuanced than the narrative of cis-heteronormativity.

Many in the aromantic and asexual communities view QPRs as an equally fulfilling alternative to traditional couplings. These relationships aren't typically centered around sex or romance, but long-lasting friendships, commitment, and a desire to share one's life with another. These partnerships aren't considered lesser to the traditional, romantic partnership, but significant and valid on the terms of those who are in them.

Stardew Valley is a game about ideals being brought into fruition. You, the player, live in a halcyon region of sprawling woods and ocean shoreline where you spend your days building the cozy farmstead of your dreams. All this idealism is further encapsulated in the game's relationship dynamics; Stardew Valley asks its players to forge emotionally-rich relationships by being a listening ear and community-building through sentimental tokens of shared kindness and intimacy.

While I could compromise and woo one of Pelican Town's bachelors and bachelorettes, Stardew manages to have an option in which I can opt to indulge my own fantasies, giving those interested in platonic partnerships the ability to envision what this type of relationship could look like in the real world. Although Krobus' dialogue can emphasize the difficulties that come from cohabitation, partner or not, he also expresses the key traits of any relationship: a willingness to tackle these challenges together, affection, and a desire to collaboratively manage the banal activities associated with daily living. He'll tell you:

 "Sometimes I pause and think of all that I've learned about humans from you... I wish all my fellow shadow people could know this feeling.” 

Krobus wants to share his life with the player and learn from you. Despite what our culture instills in us about love, does this not embody the nature of a fulfilling relationship? That, regardless of the type of love that’s behind it, you and another have learned together and will continue to. 

Sam Lesek lives in Toronto, Canada. Her writing has appeared in various speculative magazines and anthologies, including Luna Station Quarterly, Utopia Science Fiction, and Apex Books' Strange Machines anthology. She enjoys growing green, leafy things in video games and out in the real world. Find her on Twitter @SamLesek