The following article was sent to us by one of our readers, who has gone through multiple girlfriends and is now sitting on the edge of a major breakup. I asked him to write down his feelings and send them over, the following is what I received word for word. His real name must remain anonymous to protect his relationship, or what's left of it.
I know what you’re thinking. Your thinking, “how can a video game affect your relationship at all?” Well, be a little patient and I’ll tell you. Note that this is not a personal stab at video games in general, so I can only hope that the first person shooters and the real time strategy games don’t come hunting me down in the night. Hopefully no Silent Hill nurses are hiding in my closet this evening, or Master Chief doesn’t come barreling through my balcony window with a personal vendetta on his hands.
Back to the story at hand; I’ve been living with my girlfriend for nearly a year now. We have momentous moments of romantic attraction throughout days of movie watching and dinner cooking. We’ve shared the bathroom like two newlyweds might, equal mirror distance between us, and no clutter on the sink counter. We’ve even split the chores seemingly down the middle, with designated days set specifically for cleaning. I remove the trash from their prospective bins. She sorts the laundry and places shirts on hangers. We even break the bills in half, which a number of my friends and family find strange for some reason.
Overall, we’ve lived a good life of coexistence together. Very few quarrels take place, and when they do, we make a point to settle them quickly and calmly. After a short amount of debate, we even decided to sign an extension on our lease recently, for fear of hiked rent prices if we waited any longer. Unfortunately, some minor changes among the household have rendered a few abstract polygons between us as of late. If our relationship was a Sony PSP, you could say that a dead pixel recently appeared on our gorgeous, nearly perfect screen.
This dead pixel began as a MacBook. See, my girlfriend is a very needy woman, and she likes to get what she wants. And typically, she does get what she wants. You can call this spoiled, or you can call it a magical, maestro working of ingenious word placement during conversation with two unsuspecting grandparents. Either way, she makes it work.
After having tremendous amounts of difficulty with an older laptop (by old, I mean two whole-hearted years old), my lovely girlfriend decided that it was time to let go. She knew immediately what brand of laptop she wanted to replace her trusty Sony Vaio. She longed for a MacBook, not because she’d ever had one before, but because she loved the Apple style. Her devout, incurable hunger for Apple products appeared in years past thanks to the innovative iPod, and only recently became undeniable when she purchased an iPhone.
After making quick work of her grandparents valiant effort to resist her charm, my girlfriend purchased her beloved MacBook and the machine immediately began its reign of terror. From its initial revealing on our Ikea coffee table in the living room, the MacBook had grasped my girlfriend’s sub consciousness with a grip unmatched by any living thing. As I could only sit back and watch, my girlfriend began spending more and more time with her freshly acquired laptop, and less time with me. My sadness shined through my eyes.
