Dancing was hard for him. It was hard for me too. He wrapped his arms too tightly, I too lightly. I wanted to go this way, he that way. His steps were firm and purposeful, mine were loose and jiggled from place to place. He smiled while he danced. I took an air of solemnity. When he smiled it was like watching the sunset after a long hike. It was like being alone on a brown horse in the desert. It was like drinking Blue Sky soda by a creek engulfed in majestic mountains. It was a New Mexican smile. He said I was frowning. But I don’t frown. I found a certain kind of love in his eyes and a certain kind of love in my heart. We knew each other well. We knew each other like I know my favorite pair of shoes. I wear them everyday because I don’t have time to want to wear anything else. I went all over the place in those days and he was always there. The young women were always in tow. They thought he was beautiful and intelligent and strong and all the things they ever wanted in a man. He felt they were a little blind. He’s got values that’ll rip a man in two. His values ate me alive and I thought I wanted them. When we’re together it’s like two people who are together. Together like bread and cheese, not like locks and keys. We’re together but when we dance alone it’s better. His values made dancing hard.