had it really only been two years since we first met? it seems impossible, as we had been nearly inseparable since the day you were given to me as a 31st birthday gift. you'd been with me everywhere, and through almost everything. stuck in a bag, in a pocket, even in a bra, you went with me in the car, to the gym, on a walk, around the house doing chores. together we faced beaches, terrible kids' movies, dog walks, and endless workouts.
it was too good to be true; i should have known that technology lasts only so long. i should have been prepared for this inevitable day. hope springs eternal, and i had no idea that today would be our last. our final day together, and i hardly even got to say goodbye.
i mean, when you first went on the blink a couple of weeks ago i thought it must be a glitch, that you would somehow work through with enough restoring and updating on my part. when that didn't work, i resigned myself to a trip to the "genius bar" at the apple store. teeth gritted, i made our appointment for this morning, still oblivious to the impending event.
at ten sharp, we walked, hand in hand, into the store, ready to face the truth. and the sad truth was that you no longer could play, and therefore could no longer exist. repairs were possible, but iffy, expensive and probably futile in the end. too late to apologize for the places i've shoved you, the times i've dropped you, you were taken from me for a mere 10% off a new ipod. should i have given you a proper burial? should i have erected a shrine to our time together? possibly, but it's too late now.
and i feel as though i left the store without really saying goodbye to you. i can't even look my new ipod in the face for the guilt i feel. i mean, i don't even have a photo of the two of us together! the new black and shiny ipod makes me feel a traitor, a fraud. hopefully i'll get on with my life a little better after today, but it will be a long recovery, and i'll never, ever forget you. my first, my love, my ipod.