Then come the middle steps. These are the ones we don’t talk about. The steps taken in exhaustion, after an argument, when the hallway is dark. To take a step when you cannot see the floor beneath you—that is the love that lasts.
You do not need to run. You only need to step. One after the other. Sempre avanti. I Passi dell’Amore
quando l’altro è stato tardo. (when the other has been slow.) i passi dell amore
The step you don’t plan. A glance, a word, a silence that feels like home. It is fragile; the step of courage where you decide to look twice.
And finally, there is the last step. But love’s staircase has no top. The final step is simply the decision to keep climbing. To hold a hand while ascending, to wait for the other to catch their breath, to stop and look back at how far you have come. Then come the middle steps
The first step is the bravest. It is the moment you say "yes" to the unknown. You leave the landing of solitude to walk toward someone else’s world.
Love is not a leap. It is a staircase.
The hardest step. Walking side by side toward the same horizon. It is the step of patience, where passion becomes devotion, and where "I" becomes "We."