The day you, Pinterest, fall into obscurity will be the day the Earth finally crashes into the sun. I can’t – and, honestly, don’t want to - imagine a world where I can’t look at trendy fall fashions while simultaneously reading a recipe for banana bread and stalking other people’s dream dorms.

The day you finally blink out of your internet existence will be the day the universe collapses, probably. “What will we do without you?” cry serial crafters everywhere, falling to their knees at the mere thought that they might ever have to be without their beloved board. Their heart skips a beat when they think of all the recipes and inspirational quotes that may remain unpinned forevermore.

You have captured the hearts of every man, woman, and child with the capability of opening an internet browser, sharing your endless photos and interior design ideas with anyone with an account and a pulse. We, the human race, are united under a few key qualities – our mutual love of Pinterest and our need for oxygen. Everyone I went to high school with has a Pinterest. My mom has a Pinterest. My usually grumpy and old man esque boyfriend has a Pinterest. The day when every member of the human race has a Pinterest is probably terrifyingly within reach.

“When did you get a Pinterest?” you, the reader, ask. You ponder aloud how I’ve amassed so much knowledge about this singular content sharing service, assuming I must have emerged from the womb with the app already installed. You aren’t far from the truth, my friend – I first logged on to during my freshman year of high school, a time of my life steadily fading into a hazy blur. I am quickly approaching an age when I won’t be able to remember life without Pinterest.

What are you, Pinterest? Where did you come from? What sorcery was required to turn an entire species into loyal lovers of minimalistic wall art and pictures of open floor plans?

You are not constant; no, instead you ebb and flow like the ocean tide, you remain an ever-present invisible force similar to gravity and the ozone layer. I may not always think about you, I may even go months without seeing your familiar logo, but when the inevitable mood to craft something strikes, you will emerge from the recesses of my mind with pages upon pages of potential projects.

You are like a warm cup of hot chocolate on a cold winter’s day, a bubble bath, a room full of golden retrievers – logging into your account after time away is like coming home, returning to a world where everything fits into a minimalistic white layout. Pinterest is like your most supportive friend, constantly reassuring you that your DIY looks just great and it’s possible to decorate an entire house with nothing but mason jars.

So, Pinterest – never leave us. Never force us to imagine a world where our dream wedding is less than a click away. Never force us to leave our fictitious house in favor of our real one. Never let us descend into the madness from whence we came, before you were around to save us.