Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

By ANNIE C. LEAVITT

Moapa Valley Progress

A long-term relationship of mine has changed this year and I still don’t know how I feel about it. You see, for twenty years Amazon has been my backup boyfriend, my gopher, my go-to guy. He’s always been there for me in times of desperate need, or even when I just wanted to save a few dollars, or shop without pants on. Things like that.

Two decades of me requesting anything from cookie cutters to Halloween costumes, long forgotten DVDs, to pet snacks, and him showing up on my doorstep two to three days later with everything I asked for.

But a few months ago, things changed. You see, nothing on my end changed. I swear, it’s him! He stopped showing up on my doorstep, and every time I ask why, he sidesteps the answer and promises to be reliable again. But the trust is gone.

Sometimes he shows up at my door — if it’s a big order — but for the rest of the time he goes to his girlfriends at the post office. Maybe he needed more attention, more hand holding, more people to be around, more waiting and wanting. Or maybe he’s concerned about my anti-social behavior and thinks putting on real pants and shoes and talking to humans face-to-face would be good for me. Whatever his motives for changing our relationship are, I’m not okay with any of it.

We’ve had a few relationship discussions with his close friends who promise me because of my request, he will keep coming to my door via our mutual friend UPS. His friends at the post office sing a different tune. “He lies,” they say. “He’ll tell you anything, but he likes us here better. Nothing is going to change.”

It hurts. Who do I believe? The company that has reliably saved me for birthdays and Christmases, and for that book I can’t find anywhere else, or the Griswold Christmas Vacation ornament? Where else can I get that kind of service?

Okay, so his girlfriends at the post office are nice. I don’t have anything against them. They’ve literally been there for all of us and they actually know my name. But the whole point of dating and committing to my relationship with this guy, Amazon, was so I didn’t have to go out of my house. And now? Well, it’s still wishy-washy. Granted, we live in Overton but have our original post office box in Logandale. (It’s complicated, what is it with me and complicated relationships?) So instead of my mushroom hair drain clog stopper arriving at my door, I have to drive ten miles to get it. I might as well just get dressed and drive sixty miles into town if this is the kind of effort I’m going to have to put forth.

And now? Well, he put time limits on us, too. Before, he would stop by between 9 a.m. and 6 p.m., Monday through Saturday. But now? Well, he only wants to be visited between 8 a.m. and 3:30 p.m., Monday through Friday, and only two hours on the weekend.

I’ve lost complete custody and control, and for what? A few dollars? I saw him sneaking into the post office at 6 a.m. in an unmarked truck.

He keeps telling me the breakup is about him, not me, but I find it hard to believe anything at this point.

So many broken promises, and to think of everything we’ve built together over the years. Maybe it’s time for a breakup. Anyone know of a perfect online place that ships every possible thing you could want to your door? I’m asking for a friend.