I pick up the wooden contrivance, placing it carefully on my lap as my left hand holds on to its neck. The strings seep through my fingers as I hold the first chord. Already leaving their print as my right hand strums the chord and changes its perspective instantly.
The notes ooze from the sound-hole creating a distinct sound, relaxing my nerves and warmth circulates through my body. The excitement of getting the chord progression correct makes me happy and proud to know how to play this instrument.
As I strum the last note, I let go of the chord. My thumb still in contact with the guitar, clutching it as my right hand holds the base of its body. I pick it up by its neck and bow down to the audience, my head curling into my neck as the crowd applauds. The end of my mouth curls up into a smile as I walk out the auditorium.
The six stringed musical instrument has been in my life for four years, changing me as a musician as well as person.