By Brittany Wilson, The Whetstone

The phone rings and I hope with my whole heart that you’ll pick me, choose me, but I know even before you accept the call it’s her that you want.

Quiet moments alone are constantly interrupted by the buzz of her text messages, the obnoxious, off-beat rhythm of someone else becoming a greater priority than time spent intimately with me.

If only you would gaze into my eyes the way you stare at that screen; intrigued, mesmerized, entirely captivated, a halo of light reflecting back as you gently trace your fingertips over the face of your phone.

I have never been the jealous type. It’s not like me to become irritated when your attention wanders elsewhere.  But it is so insulting to think that you would let an inanimate object appear more valuable to you than your relationship with me.

It’s not the first time we’ve had this conversation.

He rolls his eyes playfully and shoves his phone back in his pocket.

There is no other woman.  Unless Siri counts as one.

It’s a cell phone love affair.

As his girlfriend, I’ve gotten annoyed enough that I’ve slapped the phone right out of Joey’s hands on several different occasions.  I hate the way pointless games demand so much of his time, and I get frustrated when important conversations are tabled as soon as his phone vibrates.

But as a pub waitress, I am amazed at how common it is.  Every shift I work is flooded with couples (and families and friends) who make more conversation with the people inside their phones than they bother to mumble to each other.

They scan their Facebook, Twitter and Instagram feeds, then pose for a Snapchat selfie, (“Date night with bae. Having so much fun!”) before finally looking up to acknowledge the person sitting directly across the table.

I guarantee some men know more about the Pokemons they’ve collected this week than they do about their girlfriends.

And some women have gathered more information on Facebook about how their ex-best friend’s mom is doing today than they’ve bothered to ask their boyfriend all week long.

Why do we invest so much time in things that don’t really matter?  How have we gotten to the point that a game or an app is more important in our lives (and consumes so much more time) than the people that surround us—especially the ones we care about the most?

I don’t have any answers, but the observable facts of the situation make me kind of sad.

Even just in the time I’ve been at Wesley, the socially acceptable dynamics of relationships—with friends, family, and loved ones—have changed in correlation with the evolution of technology.

This becomes especially apparent during the holidays, as people slow down to take a break from reality and gather to celebrate togetherness with family, friends—all of those who are most important to them—and yet, spend more time absorbed in technology than in conversation.

I’m not saying technology is all bad, but I do think it is important for us to be aware of how much it consumes our time, energy and attention.

Because when it comes down to it, our best memories involve people and experiences, great food and conversation—not the Snapchat story of someone else’s.