Letting The Scarf Float

Another short story/write up, again fairly personal. Enjoy. I’ve added an audio track that resonates strongly with my mood on this one, too. Credit to Bastian Kieslinger for the amazing music which helps me express my own emotional flairs much more. The featured image is also my own painting.

Bastian Kieslinger – Raith Skaddar

The soft, silky scarf that is wrapped around my hand is all that is left of what once was. What we were.

As I stand by this river under the night sky, with a gentle breeze blowing by, the soft rustling of the grass in my ears, I longingly look at your scarf, the one you left at my home, the only reminder I have left of you, and I remember everything.

The smooth texture reminds me of your skin. Brushing my hand gently across your cheek as you closed your eyes and pressed your head against my chest. The flowing in the wind reminds me of your long, dark hair; swaying in the breeze as we sat in the grass, staring at the blooming trees on seasons dawn. Its gentle wrapping around my arm reminds me of you, wrapping yourself around me with joy under a crystal clear sky.

A piece of cloth is all I have left. This scarf you left with me, and never returned to take it back.

I miss the moments that I was able to wrap this around you. To wrap my arms around you, to keep you warm; to open my eyes and see you there, right by me.

I remember all these things in the moment – this moment, where I know I can move forward and heal. With time and grace, all wounds will heal. But…I just want you back. I miss you.

But I also have to let you go and say goodbye. For all the memories and joy that we have shared, I – we, must live in the present, not in the past. I can’t hold onto this scarf – what’s left of you – wishing things were different.

I can’t hold onto this scarf wondering whether you’ll knock on my door again.

I can’t look at this scarf and live my life thinking of our past.

I can’t smell the fragrance anymore, which sings to my soul and reminds me of you so explicitly, only to be given the crushing realization that it’s all imagined.

And so, I let you float. With the remaining tears now soaking the scarf, I place you on the riverbank, and watch you sail away with the stream of the river.

And just like the river, time will move forward forever more, healing me and letting me live again.

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