My dearest love,
Where did I go wrong? When did you stop needing me? When did you stop loving me? I once had all the answers, but now my heart is filled with merely questions as to why we’ve parted ways. I thought I was everything to you. Was I not?
When you needed a plumber at 2am did I not have a name at the ready? When you couldn’t reach that last box of double-fudge brownies on the top shelf, did I not lay down at your feet? Did I not allow your endless, infantile doodling to tattoo my cover? And who, who, took the hit each time an insect dared to travel your walls? It was me. Every time, it was me. I’m the one that found your new gynecologist; I’m the one that knew who to call to when the car wouldn’t start and I’m the one that knows the number to your favorite Chinese take-out by heart, but apparently none of that matters anymore.
I’ve heard the whispers, the rumors. You’ve found someone new. Someone that isn’t so thick around the middle, that’s a little more portable. Yeah, I know, I’m looking a little worn; a little tattered around the edges, but who wouldn’t be after years of undying servitude? You gave me these creases, this wrinkled spine and now you’ve moved on. On to someone sleek and shiny who can give you answers at the push of a button. Well let me ask you this, you heartless wench, where will you be when the power goes out? Who will save you when your online sweetheart takes a dive? Don’t look at me. Your fingers have done the walking for the last time. I’ve done my duty and now I’m out of here. There was a time I would have burned my own pages just to warm your hands, but those days are gone. I will no longer allow myself to be used like an old phone book. I have more dignity than that.
Good luck in finding whatever it is you’re searching for out there. You’ll never find another love like mine. Never.
No longer your slave,
Dex