THE NEXT TIME IT FINDS ME.

Thursday was my parents' Sunday. It was the one day of the week that they were both off from work and they always made the most of it. I'm taking your mom out on a date, my dad would call out to me on their way out the door. That's what they called their outings to the grocery store, dates. They are early risers so sometimes by 7am they're off gallivanting around town. They were very particular about picking up certain items only from certain stores, so they hit all of them, coming back after about 2 hours with a huge haul to unpack. By 9:30 or 10, they're already prepping ingredients for the day's lunch. My dad chops the onion and garlic, these aromatics find their way into almost every dish we eat. Meanwhile my mom has a pan heating on the stove, melting brown sugar in butter for the obligatory dessert we save room for after every lunch and dinner. My dad gets into the cooking zone better when there's music playing, so I usually hear the same oldies songs or reggae jams I've been listening to since I was in the womb. My dad finds the rhythm easily and looks over at my mom — she sways her hips a little. Then he cracks a joke about cutting a slice of the apple crisp she's preparing and setting it aside, and then handing the rest of it to him, calling that his portion. She laughs and he smiles at her. He says that, or a version of that, every time because he knows it makes her smile.

After more than 33 years, he knows he's still got it.

A hand resting on my knee. That was one of the ways my ex would gently let me know, I'm here. We'd be sitting on the couch, talking or reading or watching something. A smile would find its way onto my face when I noticed his hand there. And it was a gesture so innocent, so tender. He did that all the time. Maybe that's why he did that all the time.

It was the opposite of how I usually encountered love, or what was disguised as love. I often showed up with a downward gaze, a stomach in knots, shallow breathing. Sometimes my body tensed up so badly, it felt almost frozen.

I've known what ease felt like, and I'll know it the next time it finds me. I imagine it like this.

We have the whole day to ourselves. However we decide to spend it, we're together, and that's enough. We change into our comfy clothes and settle on the sofa. I sit criss cross next to you, and you place your hand on my knee. You've done this already a few times before, but it never gets old for me. My skin tingles just a bit from your touch. Your hand is gentle, comfortable where it chose to settle. I notice, then find your eyes. You look back at me and smile, and I let out a small laugh. I place my own hand on top of yours, and smile at you. I look at you for a beat longer, and decide this isn't close enough for me. I want to be even closer to you. So I remove the book from your other hand and place it next to us. I crawl into your lap and wrap my arms around your neck, your arms wrapping around my waist. Your face nuzzles into my shoulder. My head rests on yours as I hug you tight and ease into our embrace. I let out a slow breath. I feel your heartbeat against my body and the room, maybe the world, falls silent. I close my eyes and feel just warmth, from my chest radiating outward.

I am calm.

So this is how it feels when someone believes you are easy to love.