Why My Phone Always Dies at the Wrong Time  

My phone never dies when I’m bored.

It never dies when I’m scrolling aimlessly at 3 a.m., watching videos I don’t even like.

It survives those moments with full commitment.

No — my phone waits.

It waits for urgency.

Emotion.

Importance.

It waits until I finally need it.

Like when I’m typing a reply that took courage.

A reply that required confidence I don’t naturally own.

A reply that has been drafted, deleted, redrafted, emotionally processed, and approved by my inner committee.

That’s when the battery drops to 2%.

The warning pops up politely.

Low Battery Mode.

As if this is a suggestion and not a threat.

I panic but pretend I’m calm.

I tell myself I have time.

I always tell myself that.

I rush my thoughts.

I type faster.

Suddenly, autocorrect becomes my enemy.

Then the screen dims — dramatically.

Like it wants to be remembered.

I look for a charger.

There is none.

There is never one when you need it.

The outlets are suddenly decorative.

The cables are missing like they moved out together.

I keep typing anyway, hoping optimism will power my phone.

I press send.

The screen goes black.

Silence.

I stare at my reflection, wondering if the message went through or if I’ve just emotionally exposed myself to nothing.

My phone reboots later.

Casually.

Unapologetically.

Battery at 1%.

Like nothing happened.

I check the chat.

No reply.

Now I don’t know what’s worse —

that my message didn’t send

or that it did.

My phone doesn’t care.

It never does.

It rests peacefully, recharged and smug, waiting for the next important moment to ruin.