Broken Again

I've experienced a tragic loss. Last night, while on the phone with Tyler, I saw my guitar move out of the corner of my eye. I looked at it and all was well. I thought, "Well, I just put it back on the stand about 5 minutes ago, so I bet it just shifted a bit." A few moments later, in the slowest of all slow-motions ever, my guitar leaned forward and met its demise by belly-flopping onto my hardwood floor. I was shocked. I saw it coming, yet I couldn't do anything but sit there and watch. Time was frozen. I gasped. Tyler heard the crash and immediately asked what happened. I was aghast with denial. I stammered out, "um, I'm going to have to call you back." He again asked, "Beej, that didn't sound good. Are you ok? What happened?" After trying to explain what happened but not even being able to vocalize it, I just said, "Ty, I need to call you back" and hung up the phone. My roomie was calling at me from the other room, "BJ, are you ok? What happened?" I sat. I stared. I pleaded with time to rewind. Michelle came in, saw the guitar still on the floor, neck detached and strings limp. As she picked it up and tried to put it back together, mentioning that I might try superglue, I just sat and stared. And then, I cried. No joke. Not necessarily for the guitar itself (although I am very upset about that), but also for the loss of what it represented (personal quiet time and worship of God) and how desperately I desire that right now. I still don't think I've actually touched my guitar.... It's like when someone dies and you get so mad at that person for leaving you. And I am sad. This picture isn't a picture of my guitar, but it shows exactly where it broke. Definitely not fixable. Good thing you sent the flowers last week, mom and dad. They're coming in handy this week too. :)

I'm not quite sure how any of this can be blamed on Tyler leaving me for Boston, but I'm sure I'll find a way.