The end of the affair

I am spending too much time with this man and, nice though he is, I think it is time for me to start forming a new relationship.

My friend Milad has been trying to salvage my dying PC computer for some time now and, sadly, this week, we laid it to rest and substituted all my IT demands, temporally I hope, with a mix of my little laptop and a borrowed PC which, sadly, failed to deliver when I needed it.

I did one of my on-line poetry readings last night and those kind enough to listen were treated to improved versions of my poetry where random words were edited out by the laptop’s dodgy sound system. Maybe the poems were better that way but I came out of the experience with an only-just controlled fit of cyber rage.

Milad, for some time now, has been telling me it is time to give up on this long-term love-hate affair. He told me that there wasn’t the same excitement that I used to enjoy in the early days of the relationship. Now it is all about disappointment, insecurity, resentment and anger and that is no substitute for love.

So, this morning, I awoke with that bitter-sweet feeling that marks the end of an affair. It is time to say goodbye to my old friend Microsoft and to give into the seductive allure of Apple.

Can I go through with it? Will I be up to it? Will Apple understand me the way old Microsoft used to in those golden days when we first fell in love and anything seemed possible? One thing is for sure, I can’t go on like this.

Milad warns me that if I do change to an Apple computer then I will have less reason to invite him round for all day sessions at my place. Love him though I do, I can live without him if that means that I have a new machine in my life – one that won’t keep breaking down when I need it most, one that can fulfill my dreams.

Sorry Milad, if my new computer comes between us, maybe we will have to meet down the pub instead.

You, out there, of course, may think I am wrong. If you do, please let me know before that little plastic card gets any further out of my wallet. New relationships always cost.