I’ve been here before. I’ve kept precious things here. I’m not the first to have it. I’ve tried tins, cups, velveteen boxes, repurposed antiques, hand-me-downs, mass-produced organizers, barrel boxes, road cases, stackers, and even reused old shoe boxes. But I am just so fond of this rusty box. It had been around a while. It has seen things. It has lived life far beyond mine. I likely won’t know all the places it has been or everything it has held. It fits in my hand. I love the texture.
Did it hold weapons in a war? Did it hold something being sent somewhere else? Did it once protect a great treasure? Will it move on after me? Will it hold things for someone else? How many lifetimes?
I like that it came to me having been places. It is unique and has history. It has stories. It has been there to see things built and things torn apart. It has been at someone’s side and it has been put away with little regard. But it made it to me. I can’t say what drew me to it. Was it utility? Texture? Function?
It was none of these things and all of them. I find I adore it. I’m not sure why I find this one so unique. It just kind of hit me. I have several and while not all the same they bear some similarity. But this one just feels good when I pick it up. I don’t worry about it getting damaged or failing me. I was sitting earlier today with my hand on it. I was lost in thought. I found myself tracing the texture. It’s not as big as most of my other cases. But today it is perfect.
I’m not always as present or attentive to my things. ADHD will do that to ya. In many ways I have let things slipshod sly as my mind wanders. But I like taking this time today. I like knowing this is mine. I like knowing others did not hold its value. Some parts smooth and some rough. This has seen life.
I could paint it. I could remove the evidence of its travels. I could blend the roughness and make it look new. But that wouldn’t be right. It’s uniqueness is why I like it. I am thinking I will lacquer it. I don’t want it to change. I want to know it exactly as it is today. It has rusted enough. It has been taken for granted enough. Its patina is perfection. And I want it to remain.
I am fond of it. That is all I need.
Beta Testing Adulthood 