Dear Google Reader,
You were a diamond in the rough, the long form social network that could; the learned man’s Tumblr. It’s now been two years since we last shared a connection (and 25 articles about the supposed fate of Walter White) and I need you now more than ever.
We fell in love the day that I discovered that I could subscribe to friends feeds. You were all articles, only articles – and full articles at that. No longer just an RSS feed of the 5 blogs I love, but a curated RSS feed of my friends who had great stuff to share and say. We began to comment on articles, we had great conversation. I made friends. ACTUAL FRIENDS that went from online to real life.
No other network will do. Facebook? Yes, there are links there, but I’m friends with random people who post click-bait articles and fill my newsfeed to the brim. Twitter? I follow over 1K people. For a small group of like-minded people, Reader, you were the only one for me.
Two years ago, almost to the day, you took it all from me. Everything we had built together. Everything we shared (no, I shared). You wanted to “retire [your] sharing features” and move them to G+. The betrayal I felt – I thought I may never love again. By July of last year, you were gone for good.
I’ve found a new lover, enter… The Old Reader. He looks just like you, he shares just like you (NOTE: with premium payment). Is it too little too late? Can we begin again?
Honestly. He’s everything you’re not. We got to a point in our relationship where you stopped trying. No more new features, no more supporting the die-hard fan base that would have done ANYTHING FOR YOU. He cares. He innovates. He’s linked to my Pocket account.
That’s right, Google Reader! You heard me! I read my Old Reader articles off line without WIFI in the subway. Could you ever have dreamed of doing that?
You never cared about the rag-tag group of followers that only wanted to share interesting and thought provoking articles in long form. You took something great and tried to move it over to Google+. You didn’t even know what you had.
Well, we don’t need you anymore. We’ve rebuilt.
No longer yours,