Warning: Barf Alert

He gave me a key to his apartment this morning.
“We need to get you a copy,” he said, “so you can lock the door when you leave.”

I’ve been given a key once before. Never thought anything of it at the time, just another piece of metal. But after you’ve had to return one, a key becomes more than just a key.

I still remember that moment, separating it from the rest of the bunch, pulling it off the metal ring, laying it down. A clink on the counter, the loud sound of a door closing behind me for the last time, my legs moving heavy towards the elevator, the silent shatter of a heart.

Now he hands me a key to his place. And though he tries to make light of it, this is no ordinary moment.
“A key… That’s a big step,” I tell him, smiling, as I grab it from his hand.
“Yeah,” he says, he’s not being serious.
“First a toothbrush, now this. You getting soft on me?”
“Nah, it’s just a key.”
“You know, If I were a girl,” I tease him, “I’d write about this in my journal.”

But I’m not a girl, so I post it on my blog instead.

Comments

[James]

Blog. Journal. Same difference!

:-)

peace
james