The Key

There is a boy
that holds the key to her heart.

Sometimes, he brandishes that key and smirks at the rest of the boys. Chuckling to himself, he taunts, "Lookie here, mates! I have the key!" (as if any other boy would care, but he thinks they do.)

Sometimes, he puts that key in his back pocket - just for safe keeping.

Sometimes he wears it around his neck - to keep it close to his heart.

Sometimes, he lays it down on a counter or puts it high on a shelf or puts it deep inside his wardrobe, because he doesn't want to lose it. Then, proceeds to forget where he hid it.

Then, there are times he stands on a cliff overlooking the sea, and tosses that key into the waves crashing against the rocky shore below.

He swears that he'll never use that key again, because it reminds him that he's not worthy of the treasure chest it unlocks.

He turns, and walks away. But as he hears the sound of the metal clinking against the rocks right before the waves sweep it into itself, pulled deep into the dark mysteries of the sea - he hesitates.

Then - swan dives, careless, reckless, hopeful, and longing.
Wave after wave, he will never stop searching for that key, because it doesn't belong to the sea.

It belongs to him.
Forever.

Image by Austin Neill

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