You don't owe an unfinished game another evening just because you bought it. Our view is that a gaming library should offer possibilities, not assign homework. The useful question isn't how to clear your backlog. It's which game deserves the next stretch of time you actually have.
That doesn't mean quitting whenever something gets difficult. There's a difference between wanting to learn a demanding game and wanting to stop feeling guilty about an old purchase. A better way to choose is to give an unfinished game one deliberate return, with a specific question to answer. Then let the answer count.
Give the return a purpose
Imagine loading a saved game after a long break. You can't remember why you're in this village, which button opens the map, or whether the character beside you is someone you're supposed to rescue. That's a poor moment to decide whether you still like the adventure. You're judging the effort of getting back in as much as the game itself.
Before restarting the whole campaign, try a smaller experiment. Give yourself a session to recover the controls, reread whatever useful notes the game provides, and attempt one clear objective. Set the objective before you begin: reach the next town, retry that encounter, or see whether exploring still interests you. The goal is a fair look, not a promise to finish.
At the end, ask what you want to do next. A specific answer is worth listening to. Wanting to find out what's behind a locked door is a reason to return. So is wanting to understand a combat system that keeps beating you. “I should really get this done” is a much weaker invitation.
You can make this test gentle without making it meaningless. If the available settings let you reduce a frustration that's obscuring the part you enjoy, consider doing so. If mastering that frustration is precisely what you enjoy, keep the challenge. Neither choice needs to satisfy someone else's idea of the proper way to play.
Separate curiosity from obligation
Here's a practical distinction to use when looking through your library. Put the games you actively want to return to on a short list. Keep games you're merely curious about somewhere else. Let games you've decided against leave the list entirely, even if their campaigns remain unfinished.
This is a note for yourself, not another elaborate tracking project. For each active choice, write one sentence explaining the appeal. “I want to finish the story with my partner” is useful. “I paid full price” tells you something about the purchase, but nothing about how you'd like to spend tonight.
There is a reasonable objection here: without a little commitment, you could abandon every slow opening and never reach anything rewarding. That's why the return session matters. Give the game a chance to show you what you came for, and be honest about whether you've done that. Patience is valuable when it serves curiosity. It becomes harder to defend when you're only protecting an earlier decision.
Consider a hypothetical player halfway through a long adventure. They still love the characters but dread every optional diversion. Continuing the central story might be exactly right. Another player might adore wandering and have no interest in reaching the ending. They don't need the same completion plan, even though their progress screens might look similar.
A third player might simply be finished with the experience. They liked several evenings of it and don't want several more. Calling that time wasted because the credits haven't rolled is a harsh way to describe enjoyment they've already had.
Make one choice for the week
Try choosing one unfinished game for a return session this week, rather than promising to clear ten. Decide what you're curious about before launching it. Afterwards, either choose another session for a concrete reason or remove it from your active list. Leaving it there indefinitely shouldn't be the default verdict.
This also gives your next purchase a useful question to answer: would you rather play it than the game you've just chosen? You don't have to finish something before buying anything else. But you should be able to describe the evening you're buying, instead of adding another title to an imaginary future schedule.
Keep the freedom to change your mind. Retiring a game from your plans isn't a judgment on everyone who loves it, and returning later doesn't invalidate today's decision. Choose something you want to play, give it your attention, and stop measuring a hobby by how much unfinished work you can remove from it.