I met you in the late-1990s.
You were unlike anything I had ever seen.
To me, you were perfect.
Over many long nights, we got to know each other better. You quickly learned about all of my interests, and it seemed as if you always had an answer to nearly every question I asked of you.
Your depth of knowledge was impressive to me; however, there were times when I felt you may be purposely leading me astray. But it never ceased to amaze me when I would sit back and think about all of the amazing, awe-inspiring things I had learned from you.
We got into music together. We watched movies together. We would stay up all night and learn about all of the many fascinating places one could travel to on this tiny blue dot and beyond.
You were always there when I needed you. I never once had to question that. In fact, there were times when I felt as if the sole purpose of your entire existence was to fulfill my every need.
But over the years we grew apart, as good friends often do.
I would periodically check in you. Mostly in a perfunctory manner, but there was also a part of me that legitimately missed what we once had together. We were able to reconnect at times, but there were many occasions when I felt you would not even respond.
I would ask you a question and you would stare right through me, leaving me to wonder what could possibly be going on behind that seemingly vacuous expression that had replaced the air of confidence and personal connection you once commanded so boldly and without refrain.
The world around us was changing. I was older now; a different person. I had moved on with my life, taking on new interests, new expectations, new ideas. But you never changed a bit, did you? You were still the same old you that I had met on that fateful night in the late-1990s; so shockingly, so unambiguously, so blatantly you.
That was the problem. While I was changing, you were not changing with me. As time passed on, the rift this created became too large to ignore. And it seemed as if we were destined to part ways forever.
I would still think about you from time to time. But it was no longer enough to warrant reaching out to you in an effort to repair what was obviously no longer there.
At this point in my life, I wouldn’t even know what to say. And now you are forever gone. And I will never forget you and the many memories we made over the years.
Farewell, Internet Explorer.