Sooner or later, the big stuff comes around.

It’s not you, it’s me.

You know what this is, don’t you? I’ve barely typed a score of words and already you can see it coming. Maybe it’s just me. I can see it coming. You won’t believe me but I do loathe those last hurrahs, those look-at-me-things, those grandiose gestures of rubbishy half-emotion, especially as this isn’t a last hurrah.

What? Why? Huh?

I’m sorry, internet, but I think it’s time we had a trial separation. I think we both know that it’s been coming for a while. I’ve been using you, you see. No, actually, you don’t, do you? That’s what I need to explain. Some of it has been okay, a mutual using. I get a little something, you get a little something and we’re both happier for it. Only, I’ve been using you for more than that. Quite unforgivably, I’ve been using you as an excuse not to do other things. You’ve been my pleasure, my fun, my fancy, my procrastination. It’s gotten rather unhealthy. There are things that you can’t provide that I need to sort out before they turn catastrophic – relative to me, that is.

You’ll believe me that it was better on the bus on the way home. I had a thousand ways of saying this that weren’t so lame. You’re great, really, and we’ve had such fun. Oh stop looking like that, I know you’ve heard it before, we’ve all heard it before. This isn’t really the end, it’s just a little break, let’s give it a week, two weeks, a month and then we’ll see how we stand. I know it won’t be quite the same, not now that I’ve done this, but I don’t ever want to be quite the same again. I want my motives to be purer, my interaction less desperate, my world to be bigger. Please, don’t make this harder than it is.
It’s not like I won’t see you, there’s still email – that’s barely even the internet anymore, more of a necessity , I’ll still be needing to deal with email, and with email comes you. We might have the occasional interaction when I realise just how much I rely on google. I will be using other means of reference though. My OED has dust on it [you fuck] and it’s time I brushed it off, caressed its spine, and flicked lovingly through its pages – stopping here for half an hour before flitting there. We used to have a beautiful relationship, OED and I, but it’s been neglected lately.

At the end of the night I’ll switch you off (see how I’ve cunningly given myself this one last night?) and that will be that. Tomorrow I expect to go to bed with clean kitchen and shining sink and the glow of one who has made it through the first day.

And so, for now, au revior.