Replaceable You

Dear VanPod,
You’ve been married to my ears for over a year now. I don’t know why, it feels like I’ve owned you for 2 years. Maybe this just isn’t working out.
Truth is, I sometimes wish you were dead. Kaput. I mean, I loved the size of your mammaries – I mean, memory. That’s a big reason why I chose you in the first place, let’s be upfront about it. And whenever we synced, be it on the old PC or the PowerMac or the iMac … no matter where we did it, we could just ‘connect’. Or, as Singaporeans like to say, we ‘clicked’. Sure, there were problems, but we always got through the hard times, for better or for worse.
I knew where to go, what to do, and depending on my mood you whispered and cried out the things that I wanted to hear.
I bought you lots of pretty things you could wear out to dinner. They looked really good on you.
I introduced you to my other best friend. You both got along splendidly, though eventually you found being with him physically draining.
Now, when I look into your eyes – I mean, your reflection of me – things aren’t so clear anymore. Mostly due to my neglect. And the way I left my finger marks all over you. Why does your back bruise so easily?
Lately, after we connect, I can’t even eja – I mean, eject you. That didn’t happen during our honeymoon.
When the new models came out, I swore not to be tempted by their allure. I recently laughed at the iPod Photo, thinking it was too fat for me. I held out for a long time, really.
There were times I cheated on you in my heart. Once, like Hugh Grant, I even wondered what it would be like to be with a black model. Some respite was found through other friends’ happiness – those who had yet to find a soulmate were introduced by me to slimmer, younger versions of you.
Some liked them more petite and nubile – I mean, mobile. They liked them dressed in pink and blue and silver and green. It wasn’t pimping really – so far everyone I’ve matchmade is happily married. And that’s how I wanted to be with you, really.
However, your behaviour has been erratic. I’ve been faithfully replenishing your energy whenever you’ve felt depleted. But, darling, being charged for several hours and only lasting minutes, sometimes even seconds, is embarassing. I can no longer take you out in public and show you to my friends, because I never know when you’re going to fall asleep as we connect. (Yes, I like them to watch.)
I hear there are some operations for old models like you. Plastic surgery: Some chemicals applied to your exterior to remove your light scars. Or, some fancy new skins we could wrap over you. You could also get your, um, stamina replaced.
But the fact is, some new models are on sale now and I must confess, I may be visiting them soon. I hear some of them can last 15 hours per session!
If I do make the decision to take on a new partner, be assured you will still be my first love (though never my last), and for alimony you will get to reside in the Bose SoundDock for the rest of your (possibly short) lifetime.
I hope you understand.