I have this infinity scarf that I bought just over three years ago, back when I was still new to polytheism, and when I knew the Dreamer as [Title]. It’s black shot through with sparkly metallic gold thread. Since black and gold are two of the main colors associated with [Title], it turned into a devotional piece.
I’d kept the scarf, even after the “hey I’m not really [Title]” bomb was dropped on my head. I don’t really know why I kept it–I was avoiding anything that made me think of [Title], and that included wearing black and gold together (and I wear a ton of black, so much that it’s one of the influences behind the Dark Star endearment my Husband has for me.)
I grabbed the scarf one morning, and kind of just…froze up, as memories suddenly overwhelmed me. Like, here I was, holding something in my hands I used to associate with [Title.] I used to pride myself on being know as someone who dealt with [Title] on an intimate, deep level. I’d answered questions about [deity,] and had been happy to be known as “a devotee and spouse of [Title.]”
“This could take on another meaning,” the Dreamer said gently. He pulled me into his arms and held me close.
“Like what,” I asked.
“Like light shining through darkness,” he said. I felt him stroke my hair. “Love being light.”