Take Me Back, Facebook

The writer's Google+ page.

Image: Google+

Sit down, Facebook, I have something I need to tell you.

I cheated.

I know, I know, our relationship was going so smoothly, there were no signs of trouble, and then this vixen strolled in out of nowhere. Seemingly overnight, all my friends were whispering about Google+, discussing her seductive circles, and telling me that she was the new and improved you. I tried not to look, I tried to remain faithful, but my curiosity was overwhelming. The invite arrived at a moment of weakness and, regrettably, the affair unfolded. I’m so sorry.

But I’ve learned my lesson, and I now see that she can never replace you. I’m begging for forgiveness. Before you turn me away, let me explain what brought me to my senses. Give me a chance to tell you why I’ll never go back to Google+.

1. She won’t let me stalk: You’ve always let me snoop through my friends’ friends’ profiles, helping me discover whether they are single and, of course, flip through their photo albums. Google+ wanted me to put all those folks in my “acquaintance” circle, which limits access to personal information and pictures. So much for stalking.
2. She didn’t get along with our other friends: I have grown to appreciate the love triangle that we have developed with Twitter over the past couple of years. You even let me change my status via tweet, but she wouldn’t let me post from other applications. She wanted me all for herself. Selfish.
3. She wasn’t up for fun and games: We’ve had some good times, haven’t we? Between FarmVille, Diamond Dash, and Bejeweled, the high-score memories are endless. But I didn’t know how good I had it until I switched to Google+, with no games, no competition, and no virtual prizes. She had never even heard of Zynga. It would have never worked between us.
4. She made me feel like just a number: I remember it like it was yesterday, when you let me create my personalized profile URL. My Facebook page really looked like my Facebook page, complete with my name in the Web address. Google+ instead assigned me a 21-digit identification code that pops up in the URL. Nothing says intimacy quite like a serial number.
5. She went through my phone: Yep, the ultimate no-no of relationships. I caught her automatically uploading every photo and video on my phone to the Internet, and she definitely snuck that one past me when we first met. Can you believe the nerve? Sure, she told me the pictures were private, but evidently she hasn’t heard of LulzSec, Anonymous, or Rupert Murdoch. That was the last straw.

You see, she can never replace you, my dear, beloved Facebook. I’ve learned my lesson, and you'll never have to worry about me two-timing you again. I’m yours forever.

Wait a second. Who is that eyeing me from the distance? I’ve never seen her before.

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