Once the joy of having a shiny, beautiful and a little-too-expensive for me toy was over, I became callous. After the first scratch on the shiny bright screen my heart no longer stopped when my phone dropped to the ground. There came a time when it was tossed around from pillar to post with little care of how hurt it got. It was all mine, and it was no longer new - what difference did it make how much it got bruised?
Eventually, the phone could no longer keep up with my many and varying demands and slowed down to the point where it began to frustrate me. As I kept wondering why it was acting so retarded, I never once bothered to point a finger at my treatment of it. For me, everything was always the phone's fault.
Then one day I dropped the phone for the umpteenth time and the screen went half-blank. I could no longer see what was going on inside, and I had to jiggle, and juggle and turn it upside down to make sense of the text on the tiny bit of screen left. Still, I blamed the phone. How could it break down on me and leave me without the ability to send an sms, check my email or put in a facebook status? Stupid phone had become quite useless.
A day later I found myself in the market for a replacement. Despite a nagging sense of guilt over how badly I had treated previous phone, I could not resist checking out the newest options on the market. Eventually, I gave in to desire-over-common-sense and bought another top of the line, shiny, beautiful, entirely-too-expensive-for-me toy (this one, in case you're wondering). I took the new phone with me, put inside it all the good things that the old one had to offer and with extra-special care (so as not to scratch my brand-new darling) I put it in my bag and began to show it off to my friends. The old phone, now quite out of sight and out of mind, has been relegated to a permanent place on my bedside where it can remain (sim-less and dissatisfied) to play a new role as my faithful alarm clock.
It relieves me to know that, unlike old-phone, I had the agency (and the foresight) to walk out on you before I met my inevitable fate.
On the other hand, dear old-phone, I'm really sorry. I 'almost' know how you feel. And it kinda really does suck!