Betrayal

I thought we had a deep and meaningful relationship. I thought we enjoyed each other's company while we whiled away countless frivolous hours. I thought the time we spent browsing sites and exploring social networking was pleasurable for both of us. I thought what we had was special. I thought we had an exclusive relationship.

I was wrong. I've learned that my faithful companion had a secret life that it kept well hidden from me. I've learned that it consorted with characters of an unsavory nature. But when you play with fire, eventually you get burned. You acquire things you'd rather not have -- infections, viruses, worms.

I valued my relationship with my laptop. I didn't want to throw it all away. I bought protection. I tried to patch things up. I tried to ignore the signs that things really weren't getting better. But I finally had to admit that our rapport was not what it once was. My laptop was now serving the selfish purposes of a stranger, insisting that I click through to sites that it never would have asked me to view before, separating me from my applications like a cult leader trying to draw me into a life of subservience and take all my money.

I insisted on treatment, and we sought professional help. I'm giving it a chance, but therapy may not fix this problem. The interloper may have wormed its way in too deeply. I haven't decided if we will stay together or part ways. I may have to turn it in for a newer, sleeker model. But even if we stick together, things will never be the same. The implicit trust and comfort level has been lost, never to be regained.

My computer has betrayed me.