How I Fell In Love With My Guitar… Again

This guitar at http://guitaristguitarist.com/images/guitars/electric_guitar.jpg sort of looks like mine, but it isn't EXACTLY like that.

I had bought a guitar, like, one year ago. I used to play it EVERY SINGLE DAY. Well, okay, I didn’t technically play it, since I was just a beginner. I practiced, and I practiced every single day of my vacation. I fell in love with that red and white thing ever since it was hanging from the guitars’ place on the music store. I wanted to play for a simple reason: I needed an instrument to accompany the songs I would sing and write. I knew very little of music theory then. I still know little, compared to what singers should know, but I went from zero to ten, in a scale where infinite knowledge was the limit. I was getting better and better every day I practiced. I even looked up new guitar chords on the internet so I could learn more.

One day, however, I had to move away. My guitar couldn’t go with me, and I wasn’t sure why. I had seen people carrying their instruments on planes. Why couldn’t I? For some reason, they decided my guitar should go on with the moving truck, and I didn’t play for a long, long time.

When my guitar arrived, the one I had fallen in love with, the one which I practiced on everyday, the one I had begged my parents to buy for me, the Chosen One which was supposed to one day accompany my songs, the one I had hurt my fingers for – when that very same guitar arrived, it was broken. It wasn’t over for it yet, however: it was a very little tip which had broken off, almost as if it was pinching itself off. However, was it possible? Was it possible I had learned to live without my guitar? There are things I need, like singing and reading and writing. I had needed my guitar once. Did I still need it now?

In between tests, friendships, decisions, quizzes, grades, lockers, bookbags, report cards, BOB, JMUN, people, awards, Choir, Language Arts, more people, one person, another person, writing, research papers, poetry, confusion, being a middle schooler, not being able to swim, sucking at PE, rocking at other subjects, emails, MSN, teachers, students, parents, problems, more problems and fun stuff, I think I sort of forgot about my guitar. Yesterday, however, my dad asked if I wanted to play. I started to consider it. I wanted to watch a TV show that was on, but I decided trying it, once again, trying my guitar. I started learning again, yesterday. I decided that the part that had pinched off from my guitar actually gave it some charming effect. The way the guitar fit into my legs and my body, and how I still knew how to hold the chords (even if I didn’t remember the chords) made me feel like I should try it more times. Whatever to that TV show, I decided.

Even because, if I had watched it, I wouldn’t remember how I loved playing my guitar. I wouldn’t have fallen in love with it… again.

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