Dear Cell Phone,
You have been a part of my life since the day I was 12. I was excited to have you, even though my parents said I could only use you for emergencies, since I was walking home from middle school every day. You were so beautiful with your red and black exterior, glimmering when I would flip you open. Then high school rolled around and I upgraded you for an iPhone. Now that you were an iPhone, I could do so many things with you! I could take pictures and videos, I could check the weather, I could listen to music, I could check Facebook, and I could talk to the life saver herself, Siri. We became inseparable. I know you will always be there for me if people cancel on me, if I’m bored, or if I have to go somewhere alone. You have been with me through so many milestones and I especially love traveling with you, even though you have to go to sleep when we are on the plane. But anyway, I am really happy that you came into my life.
Now, keep everything I just said in mind, okay?
I need to be honest.
I cannot stand how clingy you are. You take up all of my attention, and for what? For me to re-read the same Twitter feed that I just saw five seconds ago? Or for me to keep staring at the same Instagram pictures that haven’t refreshed yet? Do you know how embarrassing it is for me to go out to dinner with my family or even, God forbid, that I have friends other than you, and there you are? Buzzing. Popping up with notification after notification. It is to a point that all of your buddies are taking over my friends' lives too. I can’t even remember a time in which I went out to dinner with people and I didn’t have you up on the table with my food, and then you beg to see the food, so I have to snap a pic.
Now, I understand that you are a phone. But do you know that you and your people have made it quite impossible for human beings to understand how to connect with each other anymore? We do not know how to communicate without shortening words or without taking 10-second videos of each other. Cell phone, you have made it hard for me to simply take a walk outside without bringing you along and needing to document what I’m doing. I have no respect for someone as demanding and mentally abusing as you are.
Here you sit, right now, buzzing, as I write this. Well, you know what? Here’s what I have to say to that. Go ahead, sit there. You’re not going anywhere on your own. I think we need to take a break. I think I need some space. I need to be free and smell the fresh air and soak in the sun and listen to the cars and the birds and squirrels around me. I need to stop worrying about turning you on.
I am happy that we met, but I think it’s time that I walk away for a little bit. It’s not me, it’s you.
Sincerely,
I have more important things to do!
P.S. If you weren't so chatty in the movie theater, then I wouldn't have to turn you off.
