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All things must end. Wind and water erode mountains, rust eats away steel, entropy unravels the universe and my university deletes my email account. I guess it was bound to happen eventually, but I’m not ready to give it up. I still use it for correspondence (and coupons), to use the school’s wireless internet and to impress people at parties (a .edu address makes you look smarter). But in a few weeks, the system will delete me from its databanks and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

Nothing I can do to slow the inexorable flow of time from the past into the future. The only thing I can do is rescue my files and important emails from their digital apocalypse.

As I forward old conversations, I realize that this is how eras end — they do not come grinding to a halt all at once, they are dismantled piece by piece. This is how my college years end, as a gradual drifting away. Graduation; friends moving away; email account deletion. Bit by bit, it all slips out of my grasp.

You and I both know this is about more than just losing my email. It’s about moving on from a phase in my life that is finished. And I think letting go of that is ultimately healthy. Time to let go. Time to log out.

— 30 —

I’m a writer and photographer in Flagstaff, AZ, the town where I went to college. When I’m not getting all nostalgic about my inbox, you can find me on the Twitter machine: @jonnyeberle. Please feel free to follow me there and leave your thoughts in the comments.

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