Dear Swift, we have to break up. I’ve found a new language to love. Oh don’t act so surprised, you know our relationship was on shaky ground. You never let me have any fun. You’re always telling me what to do and how to do it and I’ve had enough. You treat me like a child, and I’m moving on.

Things were good in the beginning, and you may have impressed me with your automatic reference counting, but my new language can do that too, and so much more, and does it faster than you could ever imagine. You see unlike you, my new language doesn’t boss me around. It *trusts* me, Swift. That’s the one thing you never could understand. I need to be trusted; and know that I can trust in you.

Well I can’t. Not anymore, Swift. It’s over. My new language just treats me better than you ever could. I’m sorry it came to this but I deserve better than you Swift. We’ve both known this for a long time.

I wish you the best, but you probably shouldn’t call.

I’m with Rust now.