No, it's nothing to do with protocols that Microsoft invented. It's about people perception and realities.
Lets imagine that you are a point in a huge space that represents your worldview. As time passes, your memories change. The meaning of things in your past shifts. Your point becomes a line.
Incidentally, this is great visualisation material for when you're sitting in bed, eyes tightly shut, with profoundly arhythmic breathing from trying to regulate it without thinking about it, just waiting for Truth to arrive. Or at least for Lies to go away. Imagine your life spearing through the darkness of possibility, maybe with that cute spiralling of secondary lights around it that all good anime used for The Weapon, once upon a time.
Consider a close friend, a partner, a lover. See their lives spiralling around yours, sometimes spinning around in a dizzying frenzy, sometime arching out to a perfect parabolic apogee, to gracefully return in languid contentment.
You'll probably want to lose the spiralling bit for that. It will either make you dizzy or nauseous.
And then, It happens. A jolt. A shock? An inevitable slide, that you could have forseen, had you the foresight to pierce the future's shadow. Suddenly, the convergence stops. For a time, you coast side by side, in perfectly bewildered tandem. And then, the divergence begins. Perhaps an asymptotic slide away, perhaps those tiny, insignificant sparkles that you can only see now, away from their blinding corona, deflecting each of you outward, a nudge at a time.
And time passes. A small, but increasing distance separates you. And as with all things exponential, each blink takes you further and further away. Soon, your memories are worlds apart. Soon your pasts are strangers to each other.
Two faint stars, at opposite corners of the universe. Whether the center of a galaxy, or a solitary wanderer, it makes no difference.
But I don't really like that image. Let's change the rules, and express meaning by how you move, not where you are.
Imagine now, our proud streaks of light spearing past each other at right angles. Bring back the spiralling effects, colour us in strong primaries, summon visions of heroic knights jousting for whatever reason happened to possess them at the time.
But no; the former vision is the fairer. A pattern is defined by voids, a picture by shadow. What does a star know of the darkness around it?