My dearest friend, my closest confidant,

Goodbye has come far too soon. I remember the first day we met. You sat on the triangular desk, waiting for me quietly. I walked in anxiously, side parted hair and bright blue “FSHA” orientation t-shirt on. It was love at first sight. Looking back on the moment makes me smile. Neither of us knew how much we would go through together from that day on. Little did you know. Anything really. Because you were a blank laptop. 

Even though you were blank, I loved you more than anything. Looking at you, I saw endless possibilities. I saw the excitement of high school — the freshness of a new start. I saw that you had a pre-installed emoji keyboard. What more could a girl want? At that moment, I knew I had never been happier. Then you became even better: you had a preinstalled GarageBand. As someone who had been tinkering with the rookie garage band on my phone since seventh grade, I nearly disintegrated on the spot with excitement. My musical aspirations of songwriting, concert tours and worldwide fame were so palpable I could taste them. Anxious to create the next hit song, I rushed home that day, with all of your applications I had opened at orientation still open since I didn’t know about quitting apps after you close them on a MacBook. All of those files of my very first songs sit with you to this day.

Before we knew it, the school year started, and you immediately became such a big part of my everyday life I couldn’t even remember what it was like before you arrived. In the meantime, your favorite outfit, a teal case and keyboard cover, arrived as well. Everywhere I went, you went. Everything I did, you did. When I struggled with math homework, you summoned 4,480,000,000 results for “calculator” in 0.53 seconds. In English, you found me 1,960,000,000 synonyms for the word “very.” You were so dedicated to helping me, even when I left you at school that one September day, later realizing I’d forgotten you when I was halfway down the hill (I made my mom drive back up to get you).

Then it happened. COVID-19! I know this is hard to talk about for you because you were so overworked, but it means so much to me in our journey. During COVID, you weren’t just my friend anymore. You were my connection to all my friends too. You sat with me in 2a.m.-weekday-Discord calls with all the people I loved but couldn’t see in-person (bad decision, Sara) and early morning zoom classes. You patiently watched as I Googled “how to make whipped coffee tik tok” and “renegade dance compilation.” When I had too many tabs open and was overwhelmed with the amount of work my sophomore year required from me, you would gently whizz your fan to remind me that if you needed a break, I needed one too.

Soon, however, zoom became a thing of the past, but it didn’t disappear without leaving a mark on you as well. “SERVICE BATTERY ‘’ appeared at the top of my screen whenever I would click on the battery icon. The horror! Even though your battery needed service, you kept going for me. In fact, you kept going all through junior year, through JRP’s and citation machine (why does it always make my laptop overheat so fast?) to hours and hours of Heimler’s History videos before my AP United States History test. You sat with me during the late nights when I cried about the stress of looming college applications and during the good times too, like when I watched so much youtube on a Saturday that you died in my lap (momentarily… don’t worry, I charged you after).

Finally, even though you are on your last legs right now as an elderly laptop, you’ve made my senior year unforgettable. From ASB announcement docs every morning to college decision letters, senior speeches and all of my extracurriculars — this was all possible because of you. Even though you overheat (a lot) more than you used to, I know it’s just because you are fighting for every bar of internet you can receive. While in some ways things are the same, you’ve watched me change so much too. What was before a blank teal laptop case is now so densely covered in stickers I’m not even sure if you can see the color behind them. Now, instead of just one chrome profile I have two: saragreen23@fsha.org and saragreen27@ucla.edu. Instead of aspirations of making music on GarageBand, you now hold 109 (I didn’t know it was this many until I counted right now) GarageBand projects. Most of all, however, between when we met and where we are now, we have both gone from the baby-clueless-naive versions of ourselves to the worldly-developed-confident versions of ourselves we are today.

I will never forget your whirring fans, glitchy password screen, and random turning off after I watch a scary movie just to mess with me (but seriously, was that you or a ghost?). No laptop, iPad, or even phone will ever compare to you. Thank you for everything.

Your loyal user, Sara