Dear Blackberry: it’s not you, it’s me. (And Android.)

Dear Blackberry: it’s not you, it’s me. (And Android.)

We’ve been together a long time. I still remember so clearly holding my shiny red Pearl in my hands for the first time. It glistened with promise, way back then. It was the summer of 2007.

I was a late adopter (to my fellow geeks, anyway) for a smartphone. For the longest time, I kept my Type-A-like behavior in the digital world in check by not having a device that I could get email on, or surf around on. Finally I caved, and I was thrilled with my little guy. It did everything I needed. A little over a year later, I decided it was time to move on to something bigger, and I bought a Blackberry Bold the day they came out in late 2008.

Blackberry, you did everything I ever wanted you to do well. Primarily, I was utilitarian back then. I wanted email delivered immediately, and to quickly answer it without any fuss. I wanted to be able to look up a few things here and there while I was out in the world. You did that for me. You always came through.

Then things started to change… in me. I started wanting more. I wanted a more robust social networking experience, for example. When those apps finally came to our world, they made you sluggish and hogged your tiny RAM. I’ll tell you straight out– never did I ever want a light saber app. No, I was not that kind of grrl. But dammit, I did want Google Sky Map.

My needs have grown. And you, you so sweetly and staunchly do what you’ve always done exceptionally well. Sure, with my Droid X, I’m settling a little now for a mobile email client that doesn’t do some of the things I need it to (really, Android, we’re getting copy and paste for Gmail this summer?). But there’s just so much more I’m getting–without succombing to one of those other fancy smartphones, and a version of one that just about everyone’s regretting.

Take care, Blackberry. You’ll always hold a special utilitarian place in my heart, and I’ll never say an unkind word about you. I hope one day you can forgive me, and that we’ll be able to be friends. You’re a trooper, I know you’ll pull through.

(AT&T, on the other hand, you can burn in hell.)