The window that never closed

Tuesday, March 24

In my Florence,
in Piazza Santissima Annunziata,
inside Palazzo Budini-Gattai,
there was a woman
who stood at her window.

Looking out at the square,
waiting for the man she loved.

He had left for war.

And he never came back.

Still…
she kept waiting.

Not for days.
Not for months.

For years.

She grew older.
But every morning,
she was there.

At the same window.
Looking at the same place.
Holding on to the same love.

Until one day…
she was gone.

But they say
that window never closed.

Even today,
it remains slightly open.

Maybe it’s just a window.

Or maybe…

it’s what love looks like when is real.

Not loud.
Not perfect.

Just present.

— Fuerpa Slow Journal