But He Grew

But he grew, even as he wondered if it could be as it seemed it should be.

Life, he thought, should be a realized dream, or the process of realizing and creating that so ultimately simple thing, as the way life was.

The thing was, that so often in reaching for what so obviously was, so simply true, in general, in the way life should be, or maybe only for thinking he could, reach for the simplicity of an open heart, in the complexity of a complex world, filled with other simply open hearts, reaching in their own ways, for life, he could be so shy.

Really, he remembered his first date, they went to the movies, and sat next to each other, silently watching the movie. He wanted to put his arm around her shoulder, and did so, so slowly. Each second wondering if she was going to pull out the gun she had carried in her purse, for just for that moment of him trying to put his arm around her shoulder, and shoot him.

She didn’t.

Looking back, he didn’t think she really did have a gun in her purse. She probably just had that same shyness in her heart he had in his. Like him, she simply didn’t know how to hold, or be held, or, like him, just to relax and lay her head on his shoulder. She, like him, just didn’t know how to have, or what to do with, an open heart.

And now, so many years later, so many other dreams achieved through moments of uncertainty, still he didn’t really know how the next dream would be received, or accepted.

He just knew he grew if he made that simplicity more true.

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