I asked love:
How old are you?

Love answered me: I am neither young nor old. I do not go by clocks, nor do I expire with the seasons. I arrive when I find room. I can inhabit a first meeting or a second life. I do not ask the body's age, but observe the soul's maturity. Because the soul, when it loves, is always young. And so love went on to say: I am the age of the first heartbeat, and of the last breath. I am the age of your first moment of wonder, when you felt seen by someone as though the universe were naming you. And also the age of your scars, of every time you loved even though it hurt. I have no years, I have memories that repeat themselves in different bodies, I have encounters that span centuries, I have voices that do not die, gazes that still speak from other times. I do not confine myself to calendars, I recognize myself in the moments when one soul touches another and stays. So, if you still want to know my age, look for it in your chest, in that place where you felt me and believed again. There, where you are reborn, that is my age.