When I was in college, I bought a guitar. I loved that thing. I played it all the time. It was my favorite guitar, and I played it every time I played in front of people. I have a lot of memories with that guitar. About a year ago, something beyond my control happened and the guitar broke. It’s not totally unplayable, but it’s significantly different now. I can sort of use it, but not really in public, and what it is to me is something totally different. Now, instead of being able to use the guitar for the purpose I bought it for, I only have a block of wood that holds memories. The only use it really has is nostalgia. As a memory, the thing is great. As a guitar, it totally sucks. Now, I can sit and hang with the guitar, but I could never play it as an instrument anymore… it’s so broken, it won’t let me play it. When I see the guitar across the room, I have mixed emotions. On one hand, I love the fact that I even have the guitar. And on the other hand, I kind of hate the thing for breaking, and I’m a little pissed at myself for even buying it in the first place. I guess at some point or another, I’ll come to a place where I just have the memories and not the hatred. But for now, I’m a little pissed still. Dumb guitar. Maybe I’ll be more selective or careful next time.