I'm sorry, but this thing we have just isn't working out. I know you're trying to bring people together, but really you're nothing more than a college alumni magazine on crack and I just can't deal with all your TMI anymore. No, I don't need to know how many hairballs your cat spat-up today. No, I don't care what you had for breakfast. And no, I really don't need to see photos of the four orphan goldfish you rescued from a third-world country. You need to learn some boundaries, Facebook. Seriously.
Your obsession with reciprocation irks me. I can only be friends with someone if they friend me back. But what if I want to follow the goings-on of someone so supremely awesome that I don't care if they want to friend me back? Sometimes, like any good fan-girl, all I want is to bask in the glow, and there's nothing wrong with that except that you won't let me.
And then, of course, there's the issue of dear Great-Aunt Sally, who friended me yesterday, bless her heart. I knew our days together were numbered, Facebook, the minute all my relatives over retirement age decided to jump on your little bandwagon. I do not need to be poked by Grandpa Harold. (Did I mention that this "poking" feature seriously freaks me out? You couldn't think of a better word than "poke" could you, Facebook?)
Still, I must admit that we did have our good times, though can't think of any at the moment. Don't worry, Facebook. I'm not leaving you entirely; I'll still use you when it's convenient, but ditch you as soon as you start acting stupid. I hope that's alright.
See, it all comes down to this: I've found someone new. It's name is Twitter. And it seriously rocks.
BTW--here's one of those little heartbreak icons just for you. Enjoy.