Today, Tele died. I tried everything: i resoldered her, taped her, bandaged her, countless other things, but it was to no use; she slipped into oblivion.
She'd been with me for over seven years, almost eight -- through good times and bad, girls, friends, enemies, everything. She was the only one there each night when i'd be alone, singing to me, and each night we made love -- my fingers would run across her neck and my hand across her body as she screamed her screams of delight and sometimes of lement. She'd sing softly, loudly, sometimes both. She was beautiful, and she meant everything to me -- she was a part of me. Now i feel like a part of me is gone.
She was a Custom Fender American Telecaster. She was worth $1200. I got her for half that -- but she was priceless.
Her input plug died out. Her insides are too tangled, too messed up, and i don't think she's fixable. She still lays in my room but she is an empty shell; devoid of life. But never will she be devoid of love: i will love her for eternity, and no other guitar will ever compare to her.
Isn't she beautiful?
Please ignore her messed up insides; she wouldn't want to scar you like that.
Yes, i can still play her. But it's better not to offend her dignity; an electric guitar is not a true electric guitar if it can not play electrically. I'd rather she lived on in my memory as what she truly was: my baby, my love, my tele.
The last song we played together was Cliffs of Dover by Eric Johnson. That will be our song forever.
Tele, may you rest in peace.
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