shy grail
She asked me something so simple I almost missed the weight of it.
Not because it didnât matter, but because of how gently it was said,
like it didnât need to be anything more than a passing question.
âWill you peel an orange for me?â
It should have been easy to answer. A yes would have been enough. A small act, a quiet agreement, something light and ordinary that wouldnât have meant more than what it was. But it stayed with me longer than it should have, echoing in a way that made me realize it wasnât small at all.
Because it was never just about the orange đ.
It was about being cared for in the simplest way possible. About being chosen in a moment so small it could have easily gone unnoticed. It was about someone asking, without saying it directly, will you do something for me, even if itâs unnecessary? Will you take the time, even if itâs easier not to?
And I understood that.
I understood it in the way her voice softened at the end of the question, in the way it wasnât really a demand but something closer to trust. The kind of trust that doesnât ask for grand gestures, just quiet proof. The kind that builds not from promises, but from the smallest actions repeated over time.
I could have met her there.
I could have said yes and kept it simple, kept it within the boundaries of what she asked. But something in me wanted to answer differently. Not to complicate it, but to tell her something she didnât directly ask for, something she might not have expected to hear.
I would peel pomegranates for you.
Not the easy fruit. Not the one you can open without thinking, without consequence. I meant the kind that stains your hands, that demands patience, that takes time to separate piece by piece. The kind that leaves marks behind , that asks you to stay a little longer than what is convenient.
Because thatâs what I was trying to say without saying it plainly.
That I wouldnât just meet her in moments that are easy. I wouldnât only show up when things are simple, clean, and effortless. If loving her ever meant choosing the more difficult pathâthe one that takes longer, that asks more, that leaves evidence of the effortâ
I wouldnât turn away from it. I would stay.
I would take it apart slowly, carefully, without rushing through it just to get to the end. I would accept the mess that comes with it, the inconvenience, the time it requires. Not because I have to, but because I want to. Because she is worth more than what is easy.
Anyone can peel an orange. It doesnât ask much from you. It doesnât leave anything behind. Itâs quick, clean, forgettable.
But not everyone will stay long enough to deal with the mess. Not everyone will choose something that stains their hands just to offer something sweeter in the end.
And thatâs the difference I wanted her to understand.
That if she ever wonders how far Iâm willing to go, how much Iâm willing to give, how deeply I choose herâ
I wouldnât stop at whatâs easy.
I would peel pomegranates for her.
severe crag
simple bison