Today, Skype, the app that once connected me to so many important moments, is officially gone. It's a strange feeling. Sure, I have switched to Messenger for chats and Zoom for meetings like everyone else. But I can't help but feel a little sad. Few things else carry the same level of nostalgia as that familiar blue icon.  

I remember the first time I was forced to use Skype. Back in 2011-12, my school friends were frustrated with MSN Messenger's limitations. We needed something better for group calls, something where we could actually see each other's faces. I don't remember who in my friend circle recommended it to me, but when I first used Skype, it felt like magic. We had this new amazing way to talk: with voice, with video, all in one place. Our computer screens became windows into each other's bedrooms, with pixelated video feeds and that distinctive ringing sound that meant someone was calling. Even the biggest MSN fans in my friend group admitted: "You need Skype." And they were right.

For years, Skype was where my friends and I hung out online. We would stay up late, laughing over grainy video calls, our voices crackling through cheap headsets. It wasn't just for fun, either. I had some of my first job interviews on Skype. The call connections weren't always perfect, but worked well enough to get basic introductions done. I even met new people through Skype, striking up friendships (and even a few crushes) that wouldn't have happened without it. Back then, no other app made long-distance conversations feel so easy.

But time moves on. Around 2015, most people I knew started drifting to WhatsApp, which was on its way to becoming the go-to messaging app for friends and employers alike. Messenger, with its existing integration with Facebook - the app that everyone still uses, started getting new features that moved more and more people towards it. Even tech-challenged relatives, who had always struggled with Skype, could pick up the likes of Viber, WhatsApp, and Messenger with ease. 

When the pandemic hit, Zoom became the obvious choice for everything. No more struggling with Skype's screen sharing or waiting for updates. Microsoft clearly saw the writing on the wall, gradually moving all of Skype's best features into its other communications app, Teams. It makes sense: why keep using an old app when newer ones do the same thing, but better? Still, it's hard not to feel a little sentimental.  

Part of me now wishes I appreciated those Skype days more while they lasted. There was something special about the way we scheduled calls back then, treating them as events rather than something we could do instantly anytime. There was this special brand of excitement from waiting all day of classes to come home and talk to that special someone, who was only ever online on Skype. The glitches and quirks of Skype made it special too: there was a different kind of joy to be felt when someone's video finally connected after several minutes of failed attempts. As they say, those were the days.

As Skype is put to pasture for good, I realise it's not just an app that is disappearing, it's a way that we used to connect. Modern apps are sleeker, faster, and better in every way, but of course, they don't carry the same sense of nostalgia - a warm, fond feeling. They don't come with memories of friendships both gained and lost because this app, for a brief period of time in our lives, gave us an easy way to talk to each other - for us to be more humane.

So, thank you, Skype, for being there during all those formative moments. For the terrible connection quality that we somehow tolerated. For the way you made the world feel smaller before smartphones did. Most of all, thank you for being the background to so many relationships, the ones that lasted, and the ones that live on now only in those old chat logs I can't bring myself to delete.

You weren't perfect, but you were ours. You will be missed. So long, old friend.