He is easy to love,” she said. “He is easy to talk to and be around and smile with. He is easy to do all of those things with because we fit each other. I think if we met 10 years later under different circumstances I would’ve married him.” She laugh gently, her eyes grow soft. “And I love him. I know he does think so too. God, I love him. I love his hair and his eyes and his smile and how easy he is to love, who wouldn’t love that?”

Then her smile turned over. “But love isn’t supposed to be that easy. When it’s so easy like that, it’s right? It’s right if he’s easy to talk to and easy to sit in total silence with? It might feel easy at first but it what will it be ten years later?”


But her eyes were still soft. “And yet you love him. You’ll don't move on and find the one who’s not always easy, you don’t stop loving him. You can’t.” She smiled again, but this time it’s rain instead of the sun. “Because people always love what’s easy. It tends to hurt them less.”