It must be love

I think I'm in love with my new guitar, Black Betty. She's always there for me when I need her, she's beautiful and she makes me happy. Guitars are so much better than guys. They just sit quietly loving in the corner, never play stupid games, make you go all crazy or break your heart.

Two days ago, I was on the phone to my mum for about one and a half hours late at night. After the conversation I felt strangely happy, yet homesick and melancholy. We had been talking about my grandmother who is really unwell. She's been sick for a couple of years, but has always been clear in her head until now. My mum told me how my grandmother is getting really confused now and was all scared, talking about having to pack a suitcase and not knowing where she needed to go. I felt like crying. When I got off the phone, it was about 12.30am and I couldn't go to bed. So I decided to play the guitar for a while. I tried to teach myself "Wonderful tonight" by Eric Clapton for about an hour and kept on cracking myself up because I was so terrible. I would sing three words and then have a five second pause to change chords, sing another three words. It was hilarious and felt so good.

Yesterday morning, I noticed how the tips of my fingers on my left hand were starting to peel off. I was excited like a little child and showed everyone that day. How cool is that- it's as if I was actually a real guitar player now. I would never be angry at Black Betty for making my fingers peel. I know she only means well.

That must be love.