Dad returned the guitar, after a lot of outcry, multiple breakdowns and him realising how much it hurt me actually, that he was going to take something as dear, as a birthday gift I have only owned for a year so far, away from me. It only took me 3 days of disrespecting him and arguing back, for him to realise I'm genuinely hurt by his actions. The fact that it took 3 days for him, to realise I couldn't calm down and just kept being mad at him, not even being able to directly talk to him, from just how bitter I felt by just seeing his face at all in my room, I got my guitar back, by bickering like an entitled teenager. This isn't a victory or something to celebrate. It felt terrible, to feel so empty and constantly sour the past days. But it calmed down a bit today, after I got to see my guitar returned when I woke up for work. My workplace and kind, new boss cheered me up. It's just such a pleasure to talk to him and to work with him. His positive attitude rubbed off on me a bit. I