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We spend our lives searching for someone perfect, a shelter in storms, a lighthouse in the desert. Wanting to find the essence of a flawless love.
We long for the gaze that understands everything, that, without asking questions, removes our doubts. A being that never stumbles, that never declines, that always offers light when the shadow shadows are on us.
We dream of words that embrace the silence, an echo that resonates in our own universe, a faithful ally, that sees the unseen, and that in every error, finds only the seen.
But life offers us, in its uncertain walk, that in the skin of humans, the perfect is a story. That imperfect embraces are the ones that mark us the most, and that in the error itself, love stands out.
So let's not look for it in distant ideals, but in small things, in human gestures. There we will find certain, hidden treasures, a love that is not perfect, but absolute.
Because in every deficiency, reality beats, sincere dialogue is true friendship. And in the crooked paths, beauty is found, in pure imperfection, where the heart is nourished.