Dear 2007 Black Mac Book,
In my sophomore year of life post-college, I turned to you in a moment of despair. Following a couple years of ruthless abuse in a dormitory and a mouse-infested house, plus several treacherous falls from my bed thanks to the family cat who did not care for my taste in music, my college computer bit the dust at the worst possible time. Nursing a broken heart from the end of my five-year college relationship, I had come to rely on that dim glow of the screen and the crooning, mellifluous sounds of Linkin Park to distract me enough to sleep. Life had a funny way of telling me that college was most definitely over, and it was time to move on.
With the fresh promise of a new job and new life in Boston, I lip synched along to Augustana, as I scanned eBay hoping to find something I could afford on my public-health, you-can-pay-rent-or-buy-food-but-not-both salary.
She said I think I’ll go to Boston…
I think I’ll start a new life,
I think I’ll start it over, where no one knows my name.
And then, there you were, at the bottom of the refurbished Mac list, deep within the Apple website. You were black and edgy, a perfect fit for the life I envisioned for myself in Boston. And best of all, I could afford you (sort of), and you came with a warranty. I must say, it was worth forgoing real furniture and warm clothes for several months, because you have been an incredible computer.
Together, we have traveled to five new homes in three states, plus a few countries in the past eight years. You helped me connect to dear friends in my new cities. You were there for me when all ten of my crappy work computers blue-screened. You prompted me through the GMAT, graduate school applications, and countless papers and projects during my first three years of my masters programs. You distracted me with Arrested Development, Friday Night Lights, and countless hours of television, music, and movies as I nursed hangovers, colds, food poisoning, turning thirty, and yes, even a few more broken hearts. Even when I was not sure what my next step should be, as long as you were working (and providing means of procrastination as I figured things out), I knew I was going to be ok.
Tonight, I purchased your successor. She isn’t black or edgy, but that’s ok. I’m think I’m ready for sleek and silver now. Even though you have mismatched parts, can’t run without power, and are largely held together with duct tape and address labels, you showed me what it meant to be built to last. And I think that is pretty amazing.
So thank you, my beloved 2007 black Mac Book, for accompanying me into the unknown, for your unwavering reliability, and most importantly, for the wonderful memories.
– Your grateful and devoted owner.