Not Letting Go, Not Holding On”
A story of the in-between
She floated in the middle of the sea, where the sky touched the water and there was no shore in sight. The horizon stretched endlessly, a line that promised nothing, yet pulled her gaze again and again.
In her hands was a piece of driftwood—light, fragile, yet stubborn. It didn’t save her, but it didn’t let her sink either. She thought about letting it go, but her fingers tightened without her asking them to.
She whispered into the wind, “If I let you go, will I lose myself too? If I hold on, will I ever move forward?”
The ocean gave no answer. Only the waves, rising and falling, as if they too couldn’t decide whether to leave or return.
She closed her eyes. For a moment, she imagined release—her hands empty, her body weightless, drifting with nothing to hold. For another moment, she imagined surrender—sinking into the blue silence, free from questions.
When she opened her eyes, the driftwood was still there, waiting.
And so she floated—neither letting go, nor holding too tightly—caught in the space between choice and chance.
About the Creator
silent spoke
I write to make sense of the world — it's quiet corners, loud lessons, and everything in between. My work reflects on life, people, growth, and the simple truths we often overlook.
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