Dearest Cellphone Number 4,

I'm sorry for always tossing you in my bag as if you are a tube of lipstick.

I'm sorry for kicking you off my bed in the middle of the night because I fell asleep without gently placing you on my dresser.

I'm sorry for excessively tapping on your screen (when you bug out on me, ugh) to figure out what the next direction is on Google Maps.

I'm sorry for forgetting you in the mall bathroom.

I'm sorry for dropping you down the bleachers at a Ray's game that one time. It was an accident and my hands were full of nachos. Would you drop the nachos!?

I'm sorry for constantly letting you die in my hands.

I'm sorry for stepping on you while you charge on my bedroom floor.

I'm sorry for getting sand in you at the beach.

I'm sorry for throwing you at my dorm room wall out of frustration (it was exam week, after all).

I'm sorry for abusing the "Ok Google" feature you have and yelling at the poor woman's voice at the other end when she can't figure out how to change songs on Spotify.

I'm sorry for losing you in my house all the time.

I'm sorry for opening up a lot of tabs and getting mad when you randomly shut off because of it.

And mostly I'm really sorry for wanting to replace you so often, cell phone.

Sincerely,

The one who charges you up everyday.