After four years of being with me, my laptop, Midnight, is sadly showing signs that he's bound for a replacement sometime soon.
A few weeks before, I've noticed that his backlights were failing. A few days ago, it happened: the backlights died out, which made Midnight true to his name. After a night's stay in the shop and whipping out a relatively sizable amount of money, he's back with me to write this entry. Being the first time in Midnight's stay with me that I needed to ask for a technician to patch him up, it bothered me to the point that I was very happy and relieved that he's fine again. Even if the problem wasn't too critical, the thought of me losing Midnight made me furrow my forehead in deep worry.
If there was something that knows me the most after all these years, it would definitely be Midnight. We've been through thick and thin: he's seen my happiest moments, and he's also been a part of the gloomy events that I learned a lot from. Midnight is a one of the testaments of what I have become and what I have created, and losing him would mean losing yet again a big part of the things I hold dear.
But alas, it is sad to say that I confide in an inanimate being, never able to return the emotions I deeply need.
I've lost so much, but I decided to remain strong. But it would definitely break me if I would lose you, Midnight.