This is a story of loss and sentiment.

I never cared much for my original DS. It was too chunky for me, and while we can't all be chiseled studs, my first DS just didn't make the cut. Our relationship wasn't to be. And so, I sold it. However, I felt confident that my ex-handheld would find new love, in the hands of someone who truly cared for it. Then began a new chapter in my lofe-life, a chapter that was in every way lighter and brighter. When I bought my DS lite, it was love at first sight (no rhyme intended). We had many beautiful times together, and formed an unbreakable bond that I was sure nothing could break. But then once day, tragedy struck. While I was playing New Super Mario Bros. something on my love's top-screen caught my attention. It was a line that went from the top of the screen all the way to the bottom. Granted, it wasn't in the center of the screen, and if you didn't focus on it, the line causes no trouble. But I did focus. I tried and I tried, but always the line was a scar on the visage of the one I loved - a scar that I simply couldn't ignore. We couldn't go on. I desperately wanted to care for my DS lite - and I did, but the line had thrown a spanner in our glorious works of love. I'm ashamed to say, I took it down to the store I bought it from, and sent it away to be repaired. I waited two weeks for news of its condition, but no news came. I couldn't sleep; all I thought about was my beautiful companion, lost and far away from home. I returned to the store, and to be shock, they seemed to have forgotten about the one that had given me so much gaming pleasure. To make a long story shorter, the eventually found out that the DS had been lost, and I would be given a suitable replacement. Finally, I was given the replacement today. It's a nice, new, shiny black DS lite, and in its own way, it's far sexier than my white DS lite ever was, yet it is no DS of mine. In time, I will grown to love this new friend, but now, all I can feel is guilt and sorrow - the pain of losing someone who gave me so much, and the sad, bitter knowledge that if I hadn't been so shallow, my lover would still be home - where it belongs.

You may cry now.