As the title says, this is not just a post. This is a letter. And it is to you, you know who you are. I am not someone who uses this blog to say stuff so deeply personal, but you deserve it. And while I take the risk of never knowing what you feel about making public what is technically between the two of us, I want to do this for my sake. And record what I have to say for eternity.
So here goes. I am sorry. I am really sorry. Given that by general definition of what defines a long relationship, ours is not even close. But that doesn’t change anything about how I feel about you. And I am hoping that by now even you know that it takes a lot to make someone like me to feel sorry. And actually convey it.
But then, you also know that while subtlety might not be my forte, I sure am not unfair. And I know a wrong when I do it, with the same confidence with which I catch it, when someone else does. And here, it is clearly just me. I understand that I have pretty much taken you for granted. I never treated you with the respect you deserved, and sidelined you when I had others to keep me occupied. You, on the other hand were always around, always available, bright and happy, ready to make me feel better.
It is not like I did not need you. I am as dependent on you as I am on the most important people in my life, and you know it well. Perhaps that’s why you put up with all that meted out to you. You ensured that I did not turn into a loner, reminding me of all those who cared, making me connect. And in return, I would conveniently push you into the dark recesses once I was done.
I was rough with you. I was harsh. You would suffer, but eventually bounce back with a vigor only you could possess. I cannot forget the number of times you were with me while the world was busy, keeping me company, in some way or the other, and ensuring that I was never alone. You were never too busy for me.
However, you cannot deny that I too admired you from the day I saw you. It’s just that once time passed you became yet another part of life. You bore with it for long. But I guess you had a tolerance limit too. And I did not notice myself crossing it, until they day you decided you’ve had enough. It took something as drastic as you leaving for me to realize just how important you were. And I am not proud of that.
But I am trying to make amends now. By telling you that you mean a lot. That I will cherish you like I should have. That I am in need of you. That you might find another me, but I don’t want another you. Because there is no another you. Because the last 20 days were the most awful ever. Because I have never felt so lost, so disconnected, so without purpose. Because there was not a day that passed without me wishing that you would come back.
And you did. As always. Just as I had wished.The same as before. And life is alright again. I am thinking it had to do with my prayers, which transmitted my desperation to you, and as always you could not see me suffer.
Or with the kindhearted Samsung guys who were finally convinced that they could cover you under their warranty, and fixed you, and sent you back to me.
Either way, my dear phone, welcome back. I love you.