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Getting My Guitar
I could remember that dreary summer day. It was sometime in August, I felt as if I had been waiting forever. My parents just didn’t want me to be happy for some reason; they didn’t want me to have that one precious thing that I had longed for. They promised me I would get it on my birthday but months had passed before I could get my hands on the beautiful instrument. I had wanted to learn how to play the guitar for so long. I wanted to be a pop or country star that was known for being an amazing guitarist.
I remember my dad telling me that I would finally get it that day. I ran into the car and we drove off to A&A music, the local instrument store. Then, after we got there my dad stopped in the parking lot. “Come on, let’s go,” I said. I remember the exact words he said to me after that. “Honey, I’m going to tell you something that will blow your mind and you better not cry.” I was devastated, I was so excited and I was at the point where I needed a guitar in my arms. Surprisingly, my dad said nothing and walked out of the car. I followed him half crying. He opened the trunk, and there it was. My ever dream, my hopes of becoming famous, everything was in that trunk that I needed to survive. I just started crying even more from happiness. I asked my dad why he brought me over here and he explained to me that he was hungry and he wanted to get lunch as he pointed to a Chipotle near the music store. I hugged him and thanked him for what he had gotten me, and how much I appreciated it.
I brought my guitar inside chipotle because I could not stand the thought of it just sitting in the trunk of the car. My dad just smiled. When we got home I ran to my room and immediately started to play with it. After figuring out a bunch of chords and where everything was, I just smiled. The rest was just history.
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