About the answer to my addiction

I love her too much.
I love her white skin, her bright eye, her soft touch. I love her friendliness, her accessibility, her vast knowledge that has seldom let me down. I love her creativity and her possibilities, and I love the way she'll go anywhere with me. I love her flexibility and her adaptability.
What a good friend she was to me all winter. Those long, slow winter nights, when the evening hours hung heavy on my hands, how quick she was to offer me comfort.
And this seeming spring, when cool days ended with rainy nights and we felt as if winter might never end, how welcoming she's been, always ready to entertain me with something new.
How well she fits on my lap, resting easy, responsive to my touch. I can't keep away from her.
Yet I try, for I know I should. I should just say no to her, I should find something new, I should take control of those many hours spent with her.
Despite my best efforts these last months to turn away, I have not.
That is, until June.
Hello, June. Hello sunshine, hello sunny days and warm nights, hello walks and ballgames and concerts in the evening. Hello gardening and yardwork, hello lake visits and Wizards games.
Hello, summer.

She's quieter now--not gone forever, not even put away, for I need her utility and her usefulness. But something has changed for me, and finally, it's breaking my addiction.
I've been reading a lot about how important vitamin D is to our bodies--maybe that's what did it, as I'm outside more. Or maybe the exercise I've been getting--I hear that's helpful, too. Or maybe rocking on the porch--maybe that relaxed me.
Whatever: I'm finaly recovering from my insatiable need for her every night.
Sorry, Sony laptop! I know you're lonely. But don't worry--if summer comes, can fall be far behind?