I've had you now for a little bit over 15 months, and we had a wonderful time together. We've shared joy and sorrow, created wonderful epic stories and laughed about stories that we erased before anyone could see them. In short, I thought we had a working relationship and was looking forward to the coming years.
Last Friday, I took you out of my bag - Laptop bag, bought just for you! - and wanted to activate you, but your screen remained an unpenetratable black. Not even a black and white DOS-screen, or the much feared Blue Screen. No, that was all too much bother for you. You always preferred the simple, efficient way. So I guess, this is your way of saying: I quit.
Okay. I can survive this. I have a mobile phone for internet. I have my old notebook, that always had a much nicer colour than your boring black. I have options!
But here is the unforgiveable sin: You took my data with you.
If we have to break up like this, if you have to suddenly move out of my life, couldn't you have given a sign, so I could have saved what is mine? What we painstakingly created together?
Now, I'm sitting here and wondering what I have done wrong. Didn't I update your firewalls? Your anti-virus programm? Did I let you fall one time too often? Did I carry you around too often? The one time in the rain, was that too much for you?
You're now out of my hands, your data and future resting with uncaring foreigners that I'm paying to repair you.
I'm hoping for the best. After all, I'm missing you, your wonderful touch screen and the data you hide inside.
Your sad owner