But at the risk of alienating all my other significant relationships, I'm compelled to proclaim that other love that dare not speak its name: I love my operating system. And even though linear-thinking, arch-rational computer adepts like myself are seldom compelled to such attachments, when love blooms on the desktop, the object of affection is very often UNIX.

I've seldom heard such bold proclamations of love for Windows NT. Certainly there are plenty of other strong emotions within its orbit: There is awe -- for the strategic positioning and sublimely ruthless marketing tactics supporting its proliferation. There is fear -- that it might subjugate the world in desktop tyranny. There is plenty of subjugated, groveling admiration of Bill Gates and his company's share price. But no love; Microsoft creations do not touch the heart.

I've been around the block. I'm not proud of it, but I must admit to having embraced a good number of OSs over the years. I've been a real libertine -- a slut, even. I've taken my walks on the wild side, from VMS to MVS. I've committed youthful indiscretions with CP/M and TOPS-20 that I've lived to regret. But none could ever measure up to UNIX. I will always carry a torch.

What was it about UNIX that won my heart? Like many great loves, it does not yield to rational analysis. But I do know that UNIX shares a lot in common with anyone else who ever won my undying affection. I'll try to explain:

UNIX is mysterious when you first approach. A little intimidating, too. But despite an unadorned and often plain presentation, the discerning suitor can tell there's lot going on under the surface.

She's complicated, too -- getting to know her takes some effort. She can be a little unforgiving on the command line. And of course, there are the inevitable arguments -- regular expressions, switches, and such -- so you have to choose your words carefully. Eventually you'll realize you're going to need to know a lot about her history before things ever get very far.

But if you show the right level of commitment, you can get close -- much closer than other OSs. When you become a superuser, both you and UNIX will be at your most vulnerable. You'll need a steady hand and an even temper to make it work out. And in many UNIX relationships, you'll even get source code and a compiler; you can ask her to change for you. A relationship doesn't get any closer or more committed than that.

I must confess that when I first met NT, I was dazzled by the flashiness. Lots of color, slick user interfaces, shiny icons inviting me to point-and-click. Relentlessly cheerful. There were no expectations I might have to burden myself with the distractions of typing or thinking much -- I just followed the defaults, flirting with the check-boxes and radio-buttons, clicking the inviting "OK" buttons. Wow. For a first date, things went just great.

But after a while I noticed a certain shallowness -- conversations never went beyond the pop-ups and dialog boxes. When I wanted to deepen the relationship, NT was stand-offish, aloof. Worse, I had the feeling that whatever might be going on under the surface, I would never be allowed to know. Such impediments to intimacy would definitely get in the way of a long-term relationship.

Time confirmed my worst fears: when it came to questions about NT's inner life, she wouldn't tell me anything. She wouldn't make herself vulnerable. And she'd never, ever show me the source code.

I know what you're thinking: this metaphor -- this author -- is deranged. Anyone with a need for this kind of intimacy with a virtual machine could use some serious psychiatric attention. And maybe you're right. UNIX isn't flesh and blood. Maybe I'm just a little too needy.

On the other hand, an operating system is a reflection of the values, personality, and ultimately, the psyche of the designer. And if I'm going to have to settle for a reflection, is it too much to ask it be a nice, warm, sympathetic psyche in the glass? One that will enjoy walks on the beach and dinners by candlelight as much as I do? Is it wrong to want more out of a relationship in which so much of my time is spent? Isn't it okay to want to feel just a little more fulfilled? I have so much to give... Must I throw my love away?