I have a new cell phone. I didn't invest much in it, and basically it's just a functional phone I settled for because it seemed on the surface very much like my first one.
Problem is, I don't love it. Not that there's anything wrong with it, in all fairness. It's just that I didn't want a new phone. I truly LOVED my first phone. We had the perfect relationship, this little Nokia and I. But it broke. It's my fault, really. I scratched up the screen, I wore out the battery, and there was a red half-heart-shaped piece broken off the body leaving exposed wires and I'm still not sure how that happened. Apparently living with me on a day to day basis proved to be too much.
And though we were only together for a couple of years, the first phone holds so many memories that I found I couldn't transfer to the second one. And trust me, I tried. I exchanged the card, I even read the manual, but I ended up losing everything. Text messages encouraging me to "breathe in and breathe out" on days when it just seemed too hard to do it on my own, photos of special memories, voice mails and video clips and audio files, and hundreds of other pieces of my life that are irreplacable and very special to me.
So though I committed to a long-term contract with this second phone, I'm still carrying the broken one around in my purse. What can I say? My heart will always belong to the first one.