Love is for those who remain, for those who do not flee, for those who keep the point and who do not let go.
Love belongs to those who remain faithful, to those who do not abandon, to those who know how to resist the troubles, to those who do not retreat in fear.
Love belongs to those who challenge the fate, to those who look impertinently at the passage of time, to those who count scars as if they were medals, wrinkles as awards of the life.
Love is for those who remain there, faithful to their place, of those who wobble but do not fall, of those who hesitate but do not give up.
Love belongs to those who do not forget, to those who know how to hug, who knows how to welcome and bless.
Love belongs to those who remain standing even in the storm, to those who know how to dance in the rain and under a sun that breaks stones.
Love is for the one who stays outside the door and knocks, knocks, with humility and patience, waiting for the creaking of the door to announce a new opening.
Love belongs to those who do not give up, to those who have bloody but reliable hands, to those who have tired but solid feet.
Love belongs to those who remain, remain there, regardless of everything and everyone, as if the universe has chosen a place, a place to take root and flourish.
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