I Feel Violated

My cell phone was stolen today.

I was riding the bus at the time. The guy sitting in the seat behind me stole it. He had asked me a couple of questions about my wireless headset, after which I continued to listen to my tunes, during which I really paid no attention at all. I watched him leave the bus without marking it as significant. I only really began to notice things when my headphones' reception began to break up. I reached for my phone to see what was the matter, only to press my hand to empty space.

I didn't realize how attached I was to the device until it was taken from underneath me. It was like an aficionado's favorite car - he may have set a couple of dents in his precious car, but they're his dents, and he knows each one by heart, because he put them there. His car has become far more than just a method of transportation. In the same way, my cell phone wasn't just my emergency telephone. It was my music library, my picture album, and a contacts list full of all the people in my life. It was completely customized to me: I had bought the clear plastic case protecting it (which I loved) as well as having completely tailored every setting and display. My 1-gig SD card the phone was equipped with was dear to me as well - I had just loaded my new favorite tunes on it the previous morning. When that man stole my cell phone he stole away my Linus' Blanket, my Prometheus Stone, my precious blue Mustang, a hank of my hair while I wasn't looking.

I didn't cry when our family's dog died. I cried when my cell phone was stolen. I wanted to choke the guy who had taken it, but I settled for annihilating Flood in Halo 3 instead. Just a way to run away from reality, really, but it was better than re-experiencing the same pain so many times over.

My mother, who had the same model of phone that I had had, offered hers as a temporary use for tomorrow. It almost makes me nauseous to even touch the thing, necessary though the evil is. I can't help thinking, "Why must I? It's a pathetic mimicry of my own precious, a copy which can never measure up, because that one was special."

My wireless headphones seem absolutely superfluous in their existence now. It seems rather ironic, for I praised them and valued them so highly before; they are nothing without the cell itself.