Commitment-Phobia in the Computer Age

I've always been commitment-phobic. So is Ahmed; so in a sense we were made for eachother. Our fear of committing lit a fire under both of us so that we were each so busy trying to get the other to fall in love we didn't notice we were falling ourselves. It was kind of a simultaneous catharsis.

Anyway, this phobia has been holding me back in other areas. There is a long standing relationship in my life that I need to end. It's time to move on, and I can't seem to do it. (Let's keep our voices down... he'll hear us.)

It's just that-- well, he's been very good to me. So much written on this keyboard: books; poetry; drafts that will never be sent, but sit in the folder in My Briefcase; the beginnings of things unfinished.

This old guy witnessed the birth of a romance. Emails teasing and flirting between myself and "that weird guy." Emails tappity-tapped off to friends hinting at a desire to be talked into dating the "weird guy." Agreements reached. Plans made. Progressive headings: The Weird Guy @ B&N Wed! ; The Weird Guy is HOT! ; I Think I'm in LOVE.

Journals, graphics, old websites with expired domains.

Memories.

Of course, it's the Age of Information. It's all portable. But being a writer and an artist I tend to think of all things as living, even if they have no pulse. So I hesitate. How can I just leave him after all we've been through?

My birthday was in May, and Ahmed bought me a new computer. Actually, Ahmed took me out to shop for a new computer. I did shop. We agreed to "build one online" that would be my dream computer in stead.

I still don't have my new computer, because I can't say goodbye to the old one. I pick all the bells and whistles I want, and get ready to assemble, to hit SEND with Aji's credit card information all neat and tight. But I can't seem to do it.

It doesn't seem right that I can buy a keychain with more memory than my desktop. It doesn't seem right that new computers come with media reading stations that will accept any card from any digital device but some newer models only install floppy drives for nostalgic purposes-- sort of like the retro turntable music in stereos. It's all-- too much change.

I need a new computer. There. I said it. I typed it right on his tired old keyboard. To be honest, I think he's known all along.

It will be a gentle retirement. He will be moved to another area of the house, where he can entertain children with games, connect occasionally for a few quick tasks, and watch the sunrises from the bay windows. But he's a workaholic. It will be hard for him to change. It will be hard... for both of us.

I'll always love him. I think he knows it. But 45tyhnmw69io#$%^&*()789erwdrsgfkmx6578

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GAHHHHHHH!

I need a new computer.