It’s over. I loved you for a long, long time. I loved you from the day you were born on January 19, 1999. I was faithful to you. For 17 years, my gaze never wandered from your oh so sensible reliable self. You never let me down. My secrets were always safe with you. True, you were not a flashy kinda gal. But you were my true blue Canadian-born love. But then, you couldn’t keep up. Your calendar mode kinda sucked. You never, ever took a good picture. And Uber?… You never allowed me to add it to your apps. Yesterday, it happened. I wandered into a Rogers store, and there she was. Samsung 7. My heart skipped a beat when I picked her up. I thought it was simply a retail flirtation. But it wasn’t. BlackBerry baby, Samsung 7 and I are in love. No, no. Don’t cry. Honestly, you’re something else. I don’t deserve someone like you. You deserve better. Go find yourself a good woman who can appreciate you for your understated strength ―maybe a hot gal in a pin-striped suit who works in a big corporation. Just know, BlackBerry darling, it’s not you, it’s me. Call me deeply superficial, but I crave a little adventure. Now, now, there you go, crying again. Good bye BlackBerry. I’m really, really sorry.