parting is such sweet sorrow

I’m sorry, but the time has come for us to part.

No, now don’t say anything. This is not on you so don’t think it is. Well, not
completely on you. There are some questions you need to answer. Remember the Ballinagran Incident? I thought you would.

That aside, you’ve been very loyal for so long now. I wish I could say it’s just me, but
it’s not. It’s everything. It’s the whole wide world if I’m being honest. It’s just not made for you anymore, so you’ll have to go.

I know there were some good times. Intense Tetris competitions while watching
Indiana Jones and that off-brand Football Manager game you had even though I’ve never liked football. Did you really have to give Bayern Munich’s name in German? You made me sound like an eejit in school.

I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be taking my emotions out on you. You’ve been through a lot. I
can’t even remember when you had numbers. They were all worn away before you came into my hands. Spring 2007. Or was it 2006? The years have all blurred into one. And you must admit, it is a long time since you sat in my palm.

Now I know you felt betrayed when that sexy Motorola came on the scene. With its
flip screen and that golf game and the smooth silver keypad and slick edges. You were, let’s be honest, dowdy beside it. And that’s being mild. There are much worse things I could say. I would even go so far as to say that you looked like a piece of scrap beside it. You never were able to do much about your looks, were you?

Besides, it was only a brief fling with the Motorola, you know that. Nothing ever
came of it. How could there? It turned itself off whenever there wasn’t a signal. Talk about stubbornness. Its tragic end was a relief to us all. No reason to suspect foul play.

At least that was what I said.

Now hush, don’t let your battery fall out. It’ll only create a scene. I’ve always hated
long goodbyes.

You’ll like the drawer, you know. In with the tangled cables and a couple of old
sliding-screen Samsungs. A very elite crowd! It sounds worse than it is, believe me. You’ll have the time of your life in there. Would I lie to you?

Please. By now you’d think you’d know me better than that. That you dare to question me.

Well know I know I’ve made the right choice. Goodbye, Nokia 3310. You served well, but it’s time to hand over your SIM card.

You’ve been decommissioned.

SM Colgan (she/her) is a bi writer living somewhere in Ireland. Her work focuses on emotion, history, sexuality, and relationships, romantic and otherwise. She has prose forthcoming from Stone of Madness PressPassengers Journal(mac)ro(mic), and more, and her poetry can be found at Lucky Pierre Zine. Twitter: @burnpyregorse