It took me years and years before I could say yes to you. And even when I finally agreed, I still told myself firmly that I wouldn't get hooked on you, that I'd remain loyal to my first. But that's probably just another one of those impulse promises we make from time to time, because as time passed, I grew almost addicted to you.
True, it's only been about three years, but three years is a long time to spend together. All the messages we shared, all the late night moments under the pillow, trying hard not to be heard (please don't think wrong about this sentence). Being together for three years is like a lifetime, and for you, it is a lifetime.
I remember when I first had you. Everybody congratulated me. "Finally," they all seemed to say. "It took you this long?" others asked. Still others added, "Welcome to the club." I was glad. I was part of the group. I was finally connected to the outside world, no longer alone, no longer feeling left out. All because of you.
The first house I bought you wasn't the best. I admit, it was kind of cheap, and you had to share with another. It wasn't the very best that I could give you, but I have to admit, I was still attached to another. Though I had you, my loyalty and love still belonged elsewhere. You didn't complain. You went on living, helping me, giving me a chance to experience a new sense of connection. You never rested; you persevered, and soon enough, I finally fell.
I left the other. I focused solely on you. I spent for you. I took care of you. Every time I went out, I made sure you were with me. I needed you, and everybody didn't think there was anything wrong with us. It was perfect. We had fun together. Although I got angry at you sometimes, you always came back with an add-on, something to make me forget why I got mad in the first place. You granted me privileges other people never got from you. You showed me what life was like in a bigger world, in a world where people don't discriminate you because of how you connect, a world that prefers one over another.
Back in 2010, you were my lifeline. I literally needed you. Without you, I was literally lost. Without you, I would never know what to do. Without you, who knows where I would be now. You kept me alive. You kept me sane. You kept me company. There you were, always with me, always with me. Everyone who knew me, knew me because of you. Everyone I talked to chose to talk to me because of you. Everyone I needed to convince or explain to or apologize to accepted me because of you. You were the reason.
I enjoyed those three years. I met so many people because of you. I went through trials and problems, celebrations and priceless moments. I went through many ups and downs, many surprises and unimaginable pain. It was an experience that will always be in my memory.
A few months ago, I started to doubt you. I'm sorry. I had an important person to talk to and she wanted to contact me. I gave you to her, but I also gave her another. I wanted her to choose. I wanted to know who was really worth sticking to. I shouldn't really be surprised that she chose you.
I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. I should have taken care of you more. I should have thought more about you, fed you, minded the time we spent together. It started when I left my job. I didn't need you anymore, not the way I used to. I didn't need your company because nobody needed mine. I didn't care if you'd stay in bed all day. I could have thrown you out and still I wouldn't care. I neglected you, and I'm very, very sorry.
Now you're gone. I tried everything to bring you back. I tried contacting the experts, pleading with them to bring you back. I need you. I need you. I don't know what I'm supposed to do without you. Some people are starting to tiptoe away from me because I don't have you anymore. Is this the way it has to be? Is this the way it should end? Just one text and you're gone?
How could you leave me like this? I just woke up and you didn't even have the decency to say good-bye. You just left. And I didn't notice it right away, but when I did, I tried to call you. I tried to bring you back. I even tried to bribe you, but you wouldn't listen. It was an emergency, but you wouldn't listen. Now you're gone forever. Now there's nothing I can do to bring you back.
Maybe if I had thought it out well, you'd still be with me. Maybe if I set you on my schedule, you wouldn't have felt left behind. I did to you what I did to the others. I guess you're not like the others. Others stayed; you couldn't handle it. You didn't like the way I treated you, and you left. So you left. Maybe if things were different, I'd still have you.
But it's too late now. It's too late.
So I'm writing this one last letter for you, hoping that somehow, the people who have control can hear me, hear my plea and give me another chance. I'm writing this letter to let you know how important you were to me, how important you still are. I'm writing this letter to let the world know what I've lost and what I will never have again.
Good-bye, and wherever you may be, I hope you're happy. Maybe in a few more years I'll see you again. You'll be with someone else, but I wouldn't mind. I wouldn't mind anymore. But it's good-bye for now. Good-bye forever.
To Globe 09162391138
My first globe number and my first sim to ever be deactivated
Note to Globe Telecom: If ever there's still a chance, can you please reactivate this number? I really need it. I'm sorry I haven't bought load for it for about three months. Believe me, I told a lot of people to share-a-load just to keep my sim alive, but the load never came. It's prepaid and many have told me there's just no chance. But if there is, please give me this chance. Thank you.
And note to the people out there: If you value something, be it person, thing, event, or place, truly treasure it with your time, money, and talents. You'll never really know how important something is until the signal's all gone and you can't even perform emergency calls.
Lots of love,
(heartbroken and still grieving)