Diary Rant: Until It's Gone

I used to think my hand phone was, while useful, expendable. Nobody contacted me unless they wanted something. Useful in the events of needing instant communication, but that was it. I didn't find myself saying 'Oh, I couldn't live without my phone' like some people are fond of gushing. I needed it, true, but I could certainly live without it, and sometimes wished I did.

But then I had a girlfriend.

Ah, you say. Women troubles, eh? No, not women troubles. At least, not in the manner that men usually mean when they say women troubles. Farra has given me no grief, not this time. At least, not intentionally. No, it's that I find it hard to communicate with her when all I have is a phone that won't accept calls, that can't make calls, and only keeps the news of an SMS to itself whenever a text message appears. In short, I can't meaningfully make contact with her.

Oh sure, there's the internet. Skype and Twitter and such. And this blog. But what if she doesn't have internet connection? What if she's not at her desk? You can hardly expect her to remain at her desk for extended periods of time; she's not me. And there's...something, something special about our phone conversations. Tweeting on Twitter or even webcam calls by Skype just aren't the same. It's just me, I suppose, but I prefer phone conversations. Somehow they're the best way of talking to her for me.

And now that privilege has been taken from me, and I feel...lonely. I feel disconnected from her. I wonder why I would feel that. I seldom text her out of the blue, as she would tell you. I would call every day, and we would talk, but sometimes there isn't much to say so we just start...well. No need to go into detail. The point is, I talk to her, but not so much that losing a phone should make me feel this way. I can still talk to her by Skype, and I'm mostly at home nowadays. So why?

I suppose it has to do with comforting her, I suppose. I knew she was going to have a bad week, don't ask me how, I just do. I knew I was going to have to call often so she can rant, and so I could talk her through it. Now that I can't, I'm maybe a bit worried about her. I'm not sure she would want to rant with her face on display by Skype. I know I couldn't. If I was being insecure or angry I don't want to feel like people are staring at me when I go look for comfort. In fact I hate being noticed, even at the best of times. Maybe it's too much to assume she's the same, and she would in fact, like a Skype call. I don't know.

Well if all goes well I should have a new phone by tomorrow. A cheap one, about a hundred fifty bucks (still kinda expensive, but I didn't want one I didn't know how to use) and Nokia made. I just trust Nokia. And then...well, if she doesn't want to talk to me, I suppose it doesn't matter if my phone can make more noise than a thousand screaming Justin Bieber fans at a Bieber Blast World Tour, if there is such a thing. If she does...then it would be good to hear her voice again, just lying there staring at the ceiling imagining she were right there with me.

That's a long neurotic post, isn't it? I guess I get neurotic if I'm missing my Farra Fender. Oh well. I just hope she's all right. No reason she shouldn't be, but then...well, I just hope she's all right.

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