i remember the day i got you, because we were about to leave california and joab really really really wanted a music player because he always liked tech and you were 30 dollars and it was a deal and i guess technically you were my brother’s.
you came with and switched through so many genres, klove and christian rock and metal and i’m sorry for all the different identities.
joab didn’t want you anymore, then, but i did. i guess i was always good at saving junk and turning it into treasure.
you were kinda like a security blanket, little grey music player, the way you never failed to be there. during my happiest days, my worst moments, the days i wanted to die and the nights i thought i could live forever. you were a very steady piece of metal. i loved you, little music player.
i’m so sorry i lost you in the mall waiting for official important business to be over. i coulda sworn you were in my pocket, but i guess i’d be swearing wrong. i’m really good at losing the stuff i love, you see.
i hope nobody chucks you in the trash, tiny guy. i hope whoever picked you up didn’t grimace at the musicals and dodie and nf and owl city that filled you up. i hope you were turned on, with special care, your ben platt playlist carefully listened to. i hope someone finds a charger for you, and takes good care, and loves you just as much as i did. i’m sorry i didn’t love you enough to notice you gone til it was too late.
it feels silly, little player, writing to something that never breathed. but you were part of me for so long, and i tend to remember the things that made my life beautiful- or their absence, more like.
have fun, little player. don’t get picked up by an adult. they never see the magic of things that are lost. find a little kid. they’ll take care of you.
and maybe, through listening to the music that made me, they’ll find themselves too. wouldn’t that be nice, grey music player?
see you later, little guy. i really loved you so.
~take all the chances you can, it’s alright, jo~