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

Life Keys

Acknowledging them for the first time

58
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.
an image of taylor swift standing center stage surrounded by her backup dancers in elegant peacock esque outfits with a backdrop of clouds and a box rising above the stage the image captures the vibrant aesthetics and energy of her performance during the lover era of her eras tour
StableDiffusion

A three-and-a-half-hour runtime. Nine Eras. Eleven outfit changes. Three surprise songs. Zero breaks. One unforgettable evening. In the past century, no other performer has put on an electric performance quite like Taylor Swift, surpassing her fans ‘wildest dreams’. It is the reason supporters keep coming back to her shows each year. Days later, I’m still in awe of the spectacle ‘Miss Americana’ puts on every few days in a new city. And, like one of Taylor’s exes, has me smiling as I reminisce about the memories of the night we spent together.

Keep Reading...Show less
Entertainment

Every Girl Needs To Listen To 'She Used To Be Mine' By Sara Bareilles

These powerful lyrics remind us how much good is inside each of us and that sometimes we are too blinded by our imperfections to see the other side of the coin, to see all of that good.

77561
Every Girl Needs To Listen To 'She Used To Be Mine' By Sara Bareilles

The song was sent to me late in the middle of the night. I was still awake enough to plug in my headphones and listen to it immediately. I always did this when my best friend sent me songs, never wasting a moment. She had sent a message with this one too, telling me it reminded her so much of both of us and what we have each been through in the past couple of months.

Keep Reading...Show less
Zodiac wheel with signs and symbols surrounding a central sun against a starry sky.

What's your sign? It's one of the first questions some of us are asked when approached by someone in a bar, at a party or even when having lunch with some of our friends. Astrology, for centuries, has been one of the largest phenomenons out there. There's a reason why many magazines and newspapers have a horoscope page, and there's also a reason why almost every bookstore or library has a section dedicated completely to astrology. Many of us could just be curious about why some of us act differently than others and whom we will get along with best, and others may just want to see if their sign does, in fact, match their personality.

Keep Reading...Show less
Entertainment

20 Song Lyrics To Put A Spring Into Your Instagram Captions

"On an island in the sun, We'll be playing and having fun"

7296
Person in front of neon musical instruments; glowing red and white lights.
Photo by Spencer Imbrock on Unsplash

Whenever I post a picture to Instagram, it takes me so long to come up with a caption. I want to be funny, clever, cute and direct all at the same time. It can be frustrating! So I just look for some online. I really like to find a song lyric that goes with my picture, I just feel like it gives the picture a certain vibe.

Here's a list of song lyrics that can go with any picture you want to post!

Keep Reading...Show less
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

Subscribe to Our Newsletter

Facebook Comments