I woke up this morning thinking about you again. Flashes of our wonderful times together passed before my eyes, while I was still too sleepy to understand anything else, yet I was well aware that I have failed you. I’m sorry, Tripod.
What a history we have, right? We had explored every little corner of Luxembourg and we’d seen half of Europe together. Days and nights, just you and me on empty streets, above misty hills or under lonely bridges, shooting countless photos and videos. You were too heavy at times, but I held you. When I was too tired, I had your firm support. I saved you when you almost got hit by a car once. Okay, maybe twice. When you almost felt in a river, I quickly grabbed you and promised I would never let you go.
I saw more sunrises with you than with anyone else.
You helped me see when I was blind. You stopped the time when I thought it can’t be stopped. You turned minutes into seconds and nights into days.
You taught me that impossible can be done. And for that, I’m grateful.
I’m sorry, Tripod, I have failed you. It was supposed to be a morning like any other. Another sunrise together on the hills of Luxembourg. We’ve been to that very same place dozens of times. For some reason, I felt that I can do it without you for a change. I picked up my camera, said to myself: “I better not forget this tripod here” and walked 200 meters to try a different angle. I was so happy with the results, that I jumped in the car and left right away. You were probably still there when I got home an hour later. You were probably still there when I had lunch with my family. You were patiently waiting when I got out with my wife and friends to enjoy a nice Sunday afternoon in the city. You were not there the next morning, when I realized what I’ve done.
Instead of you, I’ve found some empty beer bottles. Dear tripod, I hope you didn’t go with those jerks. What kind of people stop to enjoy the view and leave their garbage behind?!?
But I’m sure you didn’t go with them, they wouldn’t have appreciated you and would have left you there in the cold. You probably went with a nice person instead, who can understand your value. Dear tripod, I hope you bring joy to that person, the same way you brought it to me. I hope you’ll have a lovely time together, maybe they’ll take you to some new places? Don’t be sad, it’s not your fault. It’ll be OK.
Oh, and by the way, if anyone else is reading this: I forgot my tripod this Sunday, somewhere close to Bourscheid, Luxembourg. If, by any chance, you or your friends have found it, I would gladly take it back. It’s a black, Togopod tripod and has a bag too. The quick release plate is missing, I still have it attached on my camera. Not an expensive tripod, but we have a history together. Thanks! It’s OK, you can LOL now.
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