When a long and intimate relationship ends, part of the process of moving it firmly into the past involves taking stock of it, learning from it, and taking those lessons, plus the other blessings of that relationship, into the future. Sometimes this is considered part of the grieving process, even though there is not always real sadness involved. Not every long and intimate relationship involves what I call love, but there’s always a sense of loss when it ends, nonetheless.

Not too long ago, I ended such a relationship. It was a relationship I had started with high hopes: many of my closest friends have a similar relationship, and they could not be more in love. I was always able to appreciate what they loved, though I also recognized that their praise was sometimes overblown. I had an intellectual understanding of what there was to love, and much of it genuinely tickled my fancy, but I just never fell in love. It never really clicked.

When the frustrations and difficulties clearly outweighed the benefits for me, I let it go. I believe there’s nothing wrong with keeping a cordial relationship going, as long as it is mutually beneficial, and expectations correspond with reality. But, in the end, this was a relationship that only true love could keep alive – and that love simply was never there. I am truly happy that my friends remain so much in love, but that love was not for me.

And so, toward the middle of last year, I broke up with my Mac. It was an awkward relationship to start with. First, there was the price – fully three times the price of a comparably equipped PC. But my friends loved their Macs, and many told me the software that came with the Mac more than made up for the price difference. That may well be true for some, but it never worked out that way for me. I never had that much use for all the free stuff that was on the Mac. Some of it was fun, and I was able to use freeware to replace Microsoft Office, but the difference was never made up.

I also had to use Firefox instead of the native Safari, so that Wordpress worked right. I seemed to be endlessly encountering software that was less current, or had fewer features, or just plain didn’t exist, for the Mac. There was that famous stability, but even the Mac needs a good reboot now and then. The Mac mail program was adequate at best. But it was good enough that I never sought out a substitute.

As long as I had my mouse, I could right click. But that right button was stubbornly absent from the laptop itself, and I had to use the pesky control button. On the PC, I actually like having both a backspace and a delete key. Eventually, I began to get used to all of this, despite the fact that my work computer was still a PC, and that wasn’t about to change.

None of this is really a big deal, especially if you’re in love – but I wasn’t. What really strained the relationship was the after-market experience. I’m fully convinced that the happiest Mac owners are those who never have to take their Macs in for anything. Easy things, like replacing a power cord you left at a hotel many states away, can be solved within minutes, if you have sixty bucks to toss around. Yes, that’s right. Sixty bucks for a power cord.

No laptop can expect to remain unscathed in the company of a temperamental three-year-old. And my LCD screen got cracked by an angry girl throwing things. I knew I was out several hundred dollars. I did not know I was out six hundred ninety-five dollars. No, I didn’t spend that money. I semi-botched an attempt to put in a new LCD screen on my own, and kept the thing crawling along for another year or so. Toward the end, I was using a separate screen. I couldn’t bring myself to spend the price of a brand new PC laptop on a repair of a Mac I wasn’t in love with, nor could I bring myself to drop another two thousand-plus on a new Mac I also wouldn’t be in love with. Macs and I were through.

So, I went out and bought a new laptop with Windows 7 installed. I added Microsoft Office with Outlook, and was still under the price of repairing the Mac. I got a 17-inch screen, and the webcam works better. The machine is kind of big and heavy, but I’m strong enough to handle that, for as much as I carry it around anyway. Within days, I loved it more than I ever loved my Mac. I was back in the PC world, where I belong.

I have no disrespect for my friends who love their Macs and would never go back to a PC. I wish I could have that kind of unconditional love for a stylish blend of hardware and software. I love my PC, but I don’t think it’s the same kind of love that people have for their Macs. If I truly loved my Mac, I would have gladly put up with all the extra costs and the after-market woes. I would have gladly tolerated the planned obsolescence of a laptop that is nearly impossible for a normal human to work on. It would not have mattered to me, because I would have had my beloved Mac.

As you can see, I’m not one of those mindless Wintel supporters that never even gave a Mac a fair shake. Once you go Mac, some say, you never go back. But some do, even given a full and complete chance of falling in love. It just didn’t work out for me. So, I’m here to tell you it’s okay to be a PC owner. Buying a Mac is not the only way to be cool, and certainly not the only way to leave your comfort zone and push for better things.

I don’t have an angry three-year-old anymore. I have a six-year-old who knows better than to destroy expensive hardware by throwing things at it. There will never be a fair comparison. I don’t intend to break my screen to find out. But my experience with my PC has been, so far, a very satisfying and comfortable return home. For now, and for the foreseeable future, “I am a PC.”