A letter to a loved one

Dear Internets,

I think you know that I love you. That, I think, goes without typing. I remember when I received my first computer so that I could visit you. It was seventh grade and I was fascinated with your bounty of porn. I learned HTML and Javascript and began making webpages to impress you. We shared some great times that summer, away from the sun and all the people that didn’t understand our love.

I was certain we would be together forever. I was going to go to college to get a Masters in computers, you were going to keep searching for new things to share with me. We would strike out west to California and start a life together. It was all going to be so perfect, but you just couldn’t wait.

“Things weren’t moving fast enough,” you said. You were leaving me to see the coast on your own. Yes, you were outgrowing me and yes, I wanted you all to myself. Looking back, I know that you were too beautiful to keep all bottled up, but you never had to be so harsh about it, leaving without saying goodbye and taking the mouse (even though we bought him together).

I remember growing jealous as older men (with their fancy Computer Science degrees) ran off to the Silicon Valley with their signing bonuses and their shiny cars, whispering “dot com” and you ate it all up. I had to sit on the sidelines and watch. Year after year, I sat in the classroom still convinced that I wasn’t going to be too late, that I’d get my degree in time before you promised yourself to someone else. I mashed my teeth and watched as the money grew and you changed.

Every quarter, things just getting better and better for you and all the new people in your life. Oh, it was so fabulous what with all the free giveaways and the new software and the fancy CSS. It made me so mad inside to see you so happy without me, I wished for all sorts of horrible things to happen.

I know it was a rough time in your life, but I smiled from ear to ear for weeks when the Bubble burst and you came crashing down to earth with the rest of us.

I know now that my response was out of jealousy. You see, I called Al Gore and got some help. He knew your type and helped me see that if we were meant to be, then we would be. So I took some time to work on some “me” issues, you know, really explore some deep places and try to understand my feelings. That was several years ago.

Well I’m older now, in the 18th grade, and you’ve settled down quite a bit. I was only half surprised to run into you at the WiFi Starbucks; I felt like fate was waiting for the right time. I feel like we’re finally starting to connect in all the ways we couldn’t before. We were both young and immature and that you grew up so much faster was sure to create problems but I’m glad that’s all behind us and that you’ve come around. It’s been a long wait.

These last few years have been great. You have more facets than I could ever explore, your mystery is boundless and that is part of why I love you so much. But lately, I’m feeling a little tired. I want to keep up with you, but it’s almost too much. I come home after a long day of work and I know that you’ve been waiting for me so that you can tell me about Britney Spears’ day or that funny thing that Bush said but didn’t mean, he thinks. I know that nothing would make you happier than if we both sat down in front of the Tube to watch every show you taped for me, but I just can’t.

No no, baby. I’m not saying that I don’t love you anymore. Yes, I’m still in love with you, but you have too much energy for me and if we continue like this, I think it might turn into resentment on both our parts. We’ve come so far and I’d hate to see it all get mixed up again. I’m not saying we should break up. That is not what I am saying. What I think would be best, for both of us, would be if we took just a tiny break. You know, recharge our batteries and rediscover all the reasons we came together in the first place.

Anyway, that’s my idea. That’s how I feel. I still love you, Internets, it’s just that I can’t spend every moment with you anymore.

I think we need some space.