Right. So. If you’ve ever been to my room, you’ve seen this pony. Yes, I’m too old for this, but I’ve had it since I was little, so that counts for something, right? She’s magic. The saddle opens up if you twist a key in her chest. But… I lost the key.
How could I have lost the key!
This is the basest fear of a hoarder’s heart. This is why we have such a hard time giving anything away without staring at each item, paralyzed, for 10 minutes. What if we feel the regret that we feel every time we look at our keyless Pretty Puff. Here’s the key:
If you ever find this key anywhere, I would mean the world to me if you’d buy it for me. I’ll pay you back. You’ll have my undying affection. You’ll probably never see one unless you’re in the habit of digging through baby toys at second hand stores.
It’s sort of sad that when you ask me about my treasures, Pretty Puff makes the list, and I’m despondent all over again about her lost key. It’s just one of the worst feelings, losing something like that. At least I have a notion of heaven. It’s where I’ll be reunited with all of my lost things.