My dear Tumblr:
Around 8:00 p.m., last evening, you staggered off with a promise to return “shortly.” I took it to be the caprice of your moody self, confident that you’d be back shortly.
But at the end of a couple of hours, I was still feverishly waiting for you to materialize out of a server, and gallop back into my laptop. That didn’t happen.
Slowly, my creeping impatience with turned into despondency. I crashed on my futon around midnight, forlorn and fatigued, buoyed by the hope that come sunrise, you’ll be standing strong and bright.
It’s past 8:50 a.m., at this writing. 12 hours have elapsed since you took a tumble. But the blackboard is still broadcasting the message: “We’ll be back shortly.”
I’ve only known you for a little while, and in in three short months, you’ve come to be my best friend, my dearest hobby. So, think of the wave of loneliness that engulfed me this morning, when I opened my eyes to find you still not here. Please dash home.
Postscript. After languishing in a comatose state for nearly 24 hours, Tumblr opened its eyes around 5:00-ish this afternoon. When it did, I threw my arms up in the air, and let out a fist pump. Yay.
I know fans were irate and implacably upset at the platform for not being around to serve them, to enable them to post their content. But my feelings weren’t of anger. I shed tear drops at its absence, missing it because it’s my dearest friend—online. To be mad at it would be unfeeling, cruel, and heartless.