Life Keys | The Odyssey Online
Start writing a post
Student Life

Life Keys

Acknowledging them for the first time

57
Life Keys
Antique Furniture Miami

I found myself fidgeting with my keys while waiting in line to order a white mocha today. I don’t know what moved me to fix my undivided attention to them, but I acknowledged what was on my keychain for possibly the first time.

I first noticed a small bit of faded orange fabric with a buckle on the end, which was all that remained of an old Oregon State University lanyard I use to own. Royal blue plastic drew my gaze to the top of the first key on my keychain. It unlocks the door of an art gallery and artist’s studio in downtown Corvallis. I used to sell art there while the artist was out running errands or working on new artwork. I sometimes sat in the cozy space for hours, beams of natural light entering through the floor to ceiling windows. I people-watched from my perch on a tall barstool, sitting behind a modern, wooden table pushed against the glass. The tabletop was always scattered with sketches from the artist. It sported a wooden box full of expensive drawing pens that I was too afraid to waste on my own doodles.

My eyes moved to the next key, a dull and tiny bronze piece of metal I hardly ever use. It opens a neglected box where mail piles up. I used to avoid opening it for fear that medical bills or loan statements awaited me. I think I was pretending the bills didn’t exist, or that they would simply disappear if I never went to retrieve them. Despite the passing of those difficult months, I still neglect my mailbox. Nothing important is sent to me anymore since the letters from foreign friends have ceased and my debts are paid. Paper printed with junk is the only thing that accumulates there now.

I noticed two small, plastic rectangles after the bronze key. One is a rewards card for a movie theater with bad popcorn, but comfortable seats. The other one is a Petco rewards card that depicts a cartoon dog and cat cuddling with one another. I got it right after I adopted my dog Shipley and took her to Petco for the first time. I remember she relieved herself on the tiled floor, which drove me to relentlessly apologize to the unlucky sales associate who had to clean it up. Mortified, I slowly approached the cash register and bought all of Shipley’s new goodies. When I received the small keychain card, the embarrassment from Shipley’s accident dissipated and was replaced with unexpected glee. The card would indicate to everyone who saw it that I was officially a pet parent. It wasn’t until I got home that I realized I had walked out of the store without paying for the harness Shipley was wearing, the price tag glaring at me. Oops.

My attention shifted to two, nearly identical silver keys. One gains entry to the first apartment I have ever lived in by myself. It is overpriced and has forced me into a never ending battle between me and three sliding closet doors, and me and a defective bedroom light switch, but the apartment is completely my own. It is a place of solace. The interior is decorated to my liking, and everything within is absolutely mine. I received my college degree while living there. I learned to enjoy my own company and how to be by myself during a long, lonely summer there. Surrounded by books and artwork abound, unfinished paintings, a dog that constantly needs attention, and a lovely boyfriend I’m always pleasantly surprised to see sprawled out on the couch, I can gladly call the apartment my home.

The other silver key twin opens my boyfriend’s apartment, located in a building that resembles a castle, mature vines snaking up its brick exterior. It’s where I spent the most time when first getting to know him. It’s where something foreign stirred and awakened inside of me when I hadn’t known I’d been sleeping, waiting for something more. Through the man who lives in the castle, my disregard for what people thought of me was amplified. I learned to be courageous and completely myself again, aspects of my identity that I somehow lost with the passing of time. Whether he knows it or not, he taught me to be more independent and sparked the return of my outgoing, fearless personality. He pulled me from the depths of a life I hated living, and for that, I will always be grateful.

The last key was not as delightful to see, because of its power to tarnish good memories. In fact, I forgot I had been carrying it all of these years. The bronze key used to open the doors of a humble home situated on my family farm in Texas. I used to antagonize my younger sister by chasing her around the house and yard with grasshoppers. I would practice softball in the front yard with my father once he got home from work in the evenings. We would play catch and practice grounders and pop flies, from the golden hour right before sunset, until dusk. There was also a short-lived garden I helped my him start, but it quickly became my responsibility to care for, alone. It eventually disappeared without a trace, due to neglect.

We also had a pool in the backyard, which is where I spent my summers. Next to it was a trampoline that my friends and I used as a place to tan our skin and sun bleach our hair. The bouncy, black surface was also where my two best friends and I had lain on our backs, staring up at the clear, blue sky the day after my father died. I wasn’t ready to go inside yet, so we lay there while the grownups broke the news to my little sister in her bedroom. After that, the house felt too empty and quickly became a place I hated and desperately tried to avoid. I grew up way too fast and spent many lonely nights babysitting my sister there, too afraid to go to sleep while my guardian was out with friends until the later hours of early morning. When I got really lonely, I would go into my father's personal walk-in closet, turn on the light, shut the door, and sit on the floor. Somehow, it was comforting to be surrounded by his clothes and things while I spoke to him, or no one.

I was surprised by the rush of powerful memories and emotions that surfaced from the sight of the small pieces of metal and tiny plastic rectangles. When I returned home from the coffee shop, I removed the larger bronze key that used to open the doors to my home in Texas. After a short hesitation, I discarded it into the trash, letting go of everything that I wasn’t aware I was holding onto.

Report this Content
This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
Chalk drawing of scales weighing "good" and "bad" on a blackboard.
WP content

Being a good person does not depend on your religion or status in life, your race or skin color, political views or culture. It depends on how good you treat others.

We are all born to do something great. Whether that be to grow up and become a doctor and save the lives of thousands of people, run a marathon, win the Noble Peace Prize, or be the greatest mother or father for your own future children one day. Regardless, we are all born with a purpose. But in between birth and death lies a path that life paves for us; a path that we must fill with something that gives our lives meaning.

Keep Reading...Show less
Health and Wellness

10 Hygiene Tips For All College Athletes

College athletes, it's time we talk about sports hygiene.

5132
Woman doing pull-ups on bars with sun shining behind her.

I got a request to talk about college athletes hygiene so here it is.

College athletes, I get it, you are busy! From class, to morning workouts, to study table, to practice, and more. But that does not excuse the fact that your hygiene comes first! Here are some tips when it comes to taking care of your self.

Keep Reading...Show less
Jenna Pizzi and her mom smiling by a waterfront with a historic ship in the background.
Jenna Pizzi

There is always a time in the semester when you have about three papers, four tests, five assignments and two projects due within the same time period. Isn't that just the best?

It's almost as if the professors all plot against you just to make college even more stressful than it already is. No matter how many people try to make you feel better, no one ever compares to your mom. Moms always know exactly what to say.

Keep Reading...Show less
Student Life

7 Jobs Your Roommate Has

She's got your back with everything that college throws at you.

3353
Cristina Yang and Meredith Grey in scrubs sit against a wall, smiling and enjoying a break.

If you are anything like my roommate and I, you have a friendship with your roomie. You’re lucky to have gotten a roommate that is easy to get along with and more importantly cool to live with. Whether you found her on Facebook or went random, a roommate is a big part of life in college. This list goes through some of the jobs that a roommate has that help you get through college.

Keep Reading...Show less
Student Life

35 Things I Wish I Learned In My Freshman Year Of College

Just some relatable college student advice! Yes, you aren’t the only one!

2595
Towson University
YouTube

Freshman year can either be the greatest year, or the roughest year. It depends on your transition and how you adjust. For me, freshman year in college was one of the best years of my life. However, looking back, there are a few things that I wish I learned.

Now that I am a sophomore, I can finally do things a little differently. Here are a few things that I wish I learned my freshman year of college!

Keep Reading...Show less

Subscribe to Our Newsletter

Facebook Comments