Dear Jim, 

I have always been your biggest fan. I have stuck by you for ten years. I have watched you in your bedroom and helped you keep your cool. I never left you, even during some heated situations.

But then you decided to purchase an air conditioner, and I was blown away. A few days after you bought it, you began to only use me at night. I deserve more than that. 

A week or two passed, and my head was still spinning, I didn’t know what was to become of me. And then the unthinkable happened. You took me down from the ceiling. Who is going to want me with all my nails ripped out? You really screwed me. 

For the last few years, I felt like I was just moving in circles. You always struggled to find my light. We’ve been together 10 years, Jim—my chords are synced with the light switch. When will you figure out you can’t just push and pull a bunch of stuff and hope it turns me on? It definitely won’t get me off. Sure, I creak when I start going too fast, and my blades have begun to sag, but I thought you cared more about me than my appearance. Then you brought this new air conditioner home, and I just assumed it would blow over. But when it didn’t, I felt so broken I thought about hanging myself.  

As I sit here at this garage sale between some dirty hoe and a broken mirror, I have had a lot of time to reflect. You never really knew what you had in me, Jim. You just treated me like I was some object. Which is too bad—I’m fantastic.