My Dad throws away my love for my first guitar
I started playing guitar as a way to get out of doing university work. I practiced and became half decent and ended up going to college to study music.

My Dad seeing this decided that he was going to be the one to buy me my first guitar. It was cheap, it was shoddy. But it was something bought out of love that meant something to me. I played her all the time even when I got new, superior guitars...........

That is until the day my Dad left my Mom, leaving a note for me and my brother, meaning I (being the eldest and doing the macho shielding thing) had to inform my Mother that her husband of 21 years was leaving her for a leather faced bint from Australia.

I still have it, but I can't play it. It's the last real link to him I have considering I now refuse to have anything to do with him, but it's also a constant reminder that he cared more about not having to do his own dirty work than what it would put his (admittedly adult) children through. I may have been fully grown at the time but I assure you there are not many things more heartbreaking in the world than telling your own Mother that her marraige is over!
(Dangerous Disco Trev Isn't my real name, Wed 20 Aug 2008, 18:21, 3 replies)

*Click*
Ouch, that can't have been fun.
You're not the bloke that wrote the Glasvegas song that's going about at the minute are you?
(Oil Slick, Wed 20 Aug 2008, 19:54, closed)

Jesus!
That's harsh.
(dchurch bah, Thu 21 Aug 2008, 9:16, closed)

Once again I find myself clicking but wishing it wasn't an "I like this" button...
Actually, I can kind of imagine how you felt: I have a similar (but not quite as horrendous) experience that isn't for these pages.

It should be "Big up the writer", not "I like this"
(Professor Kenny Martin Hmm? What?, Thu 21 Aug 2008, 9:29, closed)