Dear Windows Internet Explorer,
Our relationship has been strained for a long time. Of course, it’s not all your fault, nor is it all mine. Our intermediary is also to blame: my hated Gateway (insert string of numbers hidden somewhere on the computer’s body, necessary for purchase of any software) PC, which runs far too slowly and far too aggravatingly. But that does not get you off the hook.
You see, Windows Internet Explorer, I can no longer deal with your ridiculous loading time. Sure, at one time I found it attractive – even sexy – for my browser to take ages to log in or load a webpage. But not anymore. My life is fuller than it was, and I don’t have time for you to semi-load and then stop.
Also, as much as I loved it when we got together, your refusal to log me in to some of my necessary accounts, such as e-mail and MySpace, has become a problem. It was unfair of you, and I should not have submitted to your cruelty and mistreatment.
A third reason for my leaving you may seem mean: you are simply far too sickly. You are constantly contracting new viruses, and your immune system is terrible. I don’t have the time or the money to care for you anymore. It may seem unfair, but you will have to survive on your own. I cannot keep healing you, going through and finding all your corrupted files, cleansing our intermediary’s system because you have given it some virus, bug, or spyware. It takes far too much time and energy, which I do not have.
Windows Internet Explorer, you did wonderful things for me that, at the time, no other could do. But, my dear, times have changed, and while you have too, you have not changed enough. I am 16 now, nearly a grown woman, and I cannot tolerate your childish ways. As much as I once cared about you, I fear that the time has come for us to part.
Your former friend,
Kirstykaakes3
A.K.A.
fuoc0tanz3r
A.K.A.
jinx-raven94
(I’m sorry, but it seems I’ve forgotten the rest.)
P.S. When I clicked on you, then selected “uninstall,” I meant that I never wanted to see you again. I wanted you off my PC. I didn’t mean “create five new shortcuts.”
Our relationship has been strained for a long time. Of course, it’s not all your fault, nor is it all mine. Our intermediary is also to blame: my hated Gateway (insert string of numbers hidden somewhere on the computer’s body, necessary for purchase of any software) PC, which runs far too slowly and far too aggravatingly. But that does not get you off the hook.
You see, Windows Internet Explorer, I can no longer deal with your ridiculous loading time. Sure, at one time I found it attractive – even sexy – for my browser to take ages to log in or load a webpage. But not anymore. My life is fuller than it was, and I don’t have time for you to semi-load and then stop.
Also, as much as I loved it when we got together, your refusal to log me in to some of my necessary accounts, such as e-mail and MySpace, has become a problem. It was unfair of you, and I should not have submitted to your cruelty and mistreatment.
A third reason for my leaving you may seem mean: you are simply far too sickly. You are constantly contracting new viruses, and your immune system is terrible. I don’t have the time or the money to care for you anymore. It may seem unfair, but you will have to survive on your own. I cannot keep healing you, going through and finding all your corrupted files, cleansing our intermediary’s system because you have given it some virus, bug, or spyware. It takes far too much time and energy, which I do not have.
Windows Internet Explorer, you did wonderful things for me that, at the time, no other could do. But, my dear, times have changed, and while you have too, you have not changed enough. I am 16 now, nearly a grown woman, and I cannot tolerate your childish ways. As much as I once cared about you, I fear that the time has come for us to part.
Your former friend,
Kirstykaakes3
A.K.A.
fuoc0tanz3r
A.K.A.
jinx-raven94
(I’m sorry, but it seems I’ve forgotten the rest.)
P.S. When I clicked on you, then selected “uninstall,” I meant that I never wanted to see you again. I wanted you off my PC. I didn’t mean “create five new shortcuts.”
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.
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