Breaking Up is Hard To Do

Dear Facebook,
This is a hard letter to write.  We’ve been together for years now, and we’ve had some pretty good times.  But I have to be honest with you, because you deserve that much.
I think I need to break up with you.
I realize that must be tough to hear.  Believe me, it is even harder for me to say.  And I know people will think I’m crazy for even considering this.  You are so popular, after all, and all those people couldn’t possibly be wrong, could they?  What makes me better than them?
I’m just not feeling it anymore.  When we first met, I loved scrolling and clicking through your pages; updating my profile, uploading and looking at pictures, making pithy comments on the pages of my friends, joining group after group…  God, those days were the best!  I still smile when I think about those times, logging in every day (then 2, 3, 10 times a day) to see if I had new Friend requests or Pokes.  Oh, the Poking we used to do.
But you’ve changed, Facebook, and I don’t know if we can ever get back to those good times again.
I wish I could point to just one thing, but it isn’t that simple.  Maybe it was your growing obsession with your looks, the constant Facebook-lifts, the little nips and tucks that made no sense.  Maybe it was the lack of communication.  I mean, sure, when we first got together I liked that you had secrets; it made learning about each other that much more exciting.  But it quickly became obvious that, while you wanted to know everything about me, you weren’t being entirely honest about yourself.  And, okay, I get it, everyone has things they’d rather not talk about.  But when you won’t talk to me about the things that affect our relationship, or when I have to learn about those things from friends… That just isn’t fair, Facebook.
And if it was just that, we might be able to work through it.  But it’s the Friends you keep suggesting I like, the groups you want me to join.  My Profile changes!  I had some really good stuff on there, things that were unique to me.  You went and changed it all, and now I look just like everyone else you hang out with.   Is that what you really wanted, Facebook?  I thought you liked me the way I am!
But the most hurtful thing?  You broke your promise.  When we met you promised that I’d still keep in touch with my friends; in fact, being with you would help me stay closer to them.  I think we both know that isn’t the case.  Sure, you helped me get in touch with some old friends I hadn’t seen in a while.  But you know what?  Maybe there was a good reason we weren’t in touch anymore.  Maybe it is natural for some friendships and acquaintances to run their course and end.  Did you ever think of that?  Of course not!  You just kept throwing people I hadn’t spoken to in decades at me, never thinking that in most cases I considered that lapse to be a good thing.
Look, I don’t want this to turn into an angry rant.  I’d rather we part on good terms.  If it makes you feel any better, I really think that it’s me, not you.  I’ve been spending more time on the internet since we’ve met, and it’s opened my eyes a bit to what is possible.  I’ve met other sites, helpful sites like Flickr, Blogspot, and Twitter.  And I know you are going to say that you can do all the things they can do.  But sometimes a generalist isn’t going to cut it, Facebook; I need a site that really understands me and what I need.
And yes, I won’t lie, I have been spending a lot of time with Twitter.  But don’t start thinking this is her idea.  We’re just friends, and she isn’t telling me anything I haven’t been thinking for myself for a while now.  So don’t start blaming her.  Maybe you should take this as a chance to look at yourself instead.  Ask yourself, do you like what you’ve become?
I don’t really have anything else to say.  I don’t think there is anything else to say.  Look, I’m not rushing you.  I’m going to take some time, download my photos, read over old Notes to see if anything is worth keeping.  I’ll do a proper goodbye when I have everything in order.
We’ve had a good run, Facebook.  I want you to know I have no regrets, and I’m moving forward thankful for having the chance to know you.  But I have to move on, and I can’t take you with me.  I hope that someday you can forgive me.
Dammit, I promised myself I wouldn’t cry…
Sincerely, Renaissance Dork
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