If there’s one thing in the world that I am missing more than anything else, that will have to be my camera. I was shooting with a friend’s DSC-H3 the other day and although it produced some quality shots, it didn’t really compliment me. I felt uneasy, as though I was committing a crime by gripping onto a substitute that would mean an insult to my beloved. I actually felt I was cheating on my G9. Creepy, eh?
I remember the first time I held ‘him’. ‘Him’ – I insist – I’m straight and if I’m about to get involved in a bittersweet relationship with a ‘living’ thing, it better be a ‘he’. We clicked immediately – he was mine, I was his. He snuggled between my fingers, responded in coordination to my impulses and blinked at pace with my pulse.
It was perfect. A match made on Earth.
He saw what I didn’t see, reminded me of things I would clearly forget and I began to grow dependency on him. After all, I am only human. I felt incomplete without his weight strapped around my neck, I felt burdened to leave him home. He was my guide, my mechanical eye – he was what I couldn’t be.
Now I see things he used to see. I watch, I wait – I am now a powerful remnant of what he has made me. My hands feel empty, my soul hollow. It wants to be fed greedily, it wants him back.
At any price, I want my G9 – my beloved – to be back.