My Best Friend

Here I sit, wrapped in the arms of my best friend and confidant, my computer. It’s always willing to listen to me, now matter what I have to say, no matter what mood I may be in.

I can get up on my soapbox and rant until I’m hoarse, and it will listen with rapture to the very end. I can sob and bemoan my wretched plight, say all the unkind things in my heart, endlessly pity myself, hate anyone I want to, scream my anger out in vileness, or just sit here silently and stare at it for hours on end.

It never judges me, never scolds me, and never preaches to me.
It never argues with me and never takes anything I say personally. It bears me no grudges, holds no contempt, and never expects me to be what I am not. I don’t have to prove my worthiness to it, nor pretend that I care when I don’t. It never tells me I’m wrong, or that I’m being foolish, over-emotional, or am taking things too seriously. It never tells me that I need to do more with my life, or that I look like crap.

If it could, it would even laugh at my sorry attempts at humor.


I can ignore it, for days on end, or forever, and it will not get upset. Nor will it take offense if I cancel my plans with it. I can even scream at it, slap it, hit it, and kick it, and all it will do is silently look back at me as if to say, “that’s okay.”


It never hangs up on me and never storms off on me because it didn’t like what I said or did. It never talks about me to others and it always keeps my secrets. It’s always willing to help me find whatever it is I need to find, and if I can’t find it, it just keeps on trying.

It always has time for me and my needs, regardless of how busy it is at the moment, and has an endless supply of patience. It never forgets anything I’ve said, and will help me remember whenever I need to.

It can show me calming pictures when I’m stressed, bring excitement when I’m bored, offer advice when I need it, and be silent when I don’t. And it always makes me feel smart, clever, wise, and appreciated.


It has intelligence and wisdom beyond my means to measure, and I cannot but admire that. It promises to be there for me until the day it dies, and beyond. It’s happy with whatever I have to give, and never asks for more. It will even pay my bills for me.


It doesn’t waste my utilities, never eats my last treat, never leaves crumbs in my bed, and never leaves the toilet lid up. Nor do I ever have to clean up after it, change its oil, or refill its bowl. It always says “hello,” “goodbye,” and “goodnight.”


How sad it is to declare that I cannot do for it any of what it does for me.


September 4, 2008