The Seed of Love

Alejandra settled on a bench in the park, holding a book in her hands that a friend had recommended to her. It was *The Art of Loving* by Erich Fromm. That morning, while reading the first chapter, one phrase had stuck with her: "Loving relationships do not blossom overnight; they require time to grow and strengthen." The words echoed in her mind like a reverberation, especially because she had known Martín for months, a man who had appeared in her life unexpectedly and, without realizing it, had started to occupy an important place in her heart.

Martín was not like the men Alejandra had known before. Instead of dazzling her with grandiose words or flashy gestures, his charm lay in the small details: the way he listened attentively, the sparkle in his eyes when they talked about simple, everyday things, the way he always paused before responding, as if weighing each word carefully. However, this calm also brought with it uncertainty. Alejandra, used to intense and immediate emotions, felt that the connection between them was growing at the slow pace of a plant just beginning to sprout.

At first, this frustrated her. In a world where everything seemed accelerated and easy to obtain, from food to virtual friendships, her relationship with Martín felt like a puzzle with no clear instructions. She often wondered if he felt the same as she did. "Why isn't he more direct?" she would question. But then she remembered Fromm’s words: love is an art that requires practice, patience, and dedication.

Determined to understand this concept better, Alejandra began to observe her relationship from a different perspective. Why was she in such a hurry? Didn't she enjoy every moment spent with Martín? Every conversation, every walk together, every shared smile was like a small act of sowing. And just as a gardener knows that flowers don't appear immediately, Alejandra understood that love is not about quickly reaching a goal, but about enjoying the process of cultivating it.

Over time, their connection began to deepen. There were bright days, like those when they strolled through the city discovering new corners, or when they stayed up late talking about their dreams and fears. But there were also cloudy days, moments of doubt and misunderstandings. Alejandra discovered that in those dark days lay the true test of love. It was easy to feel close to someone when everything was going well, but what happened when differences or uncomfortable silences arose?

On one of those gray days, Alejandra decided to take Martín to the park where she used to read. It was a peaceful place, surrounded by trees and flowers that, depending on the season, filled the air with sweet scents. As they walked, they stopped in front of a rose bush that had yet to bloom. Alejandra commented aloud, more to herself than to Martín:

—It seems like this rose bush is taking a long time to bloom.

Martín, who had a curious knowledge of plants, replied:

—Rose bushes usually take months to flower. But when they do, they are beautiful. It's like all the waiting time is worth it.

Martín's words resonated in Alejandra's heart. In that moment, she understood that her relationship was not meant to be a whirlwind of instant emotions, but a slow and enriching process. Martín, unknowingly, had given her the answer she had been searching for weeks.

From that day on, they both began to dedicate more time to their connection, but without haste or rigid expectations. Alejandra learned to value the small gestures: the coffee Martín would bring her when he knew she was tired, the silent walks where no words were needed, and the nights when he spoke to her about his own fears and insecurities. Each moment was another brick in the foundation of something they were building together.

As the months passed, their relationship blossomed in a way Alejandra had never experienced before. It was not an explosive or dramatic love, but a quiet and deep one, like the roots of a tree slowly spreading under the ground. From the outside, others might think it was something natural, but Alejandra knew the truth: this love was the result of patience, mutual work, and the commitment to nurture what they had both sown.

One afternoon, as they walked again through the park, they noticed that the rose bush they had seen months earlier was in full bloom. Alejandra pointed it out and, smiling, said to Martín:

—You were right. The wait is always worth it.

Martín took her hand and, with a serene look, responded:

—Just like us.

For Alejandra, that moment encapsulated everything she had learned over the past year: love was not a goal to be reached, but a journey to be enjoyed step by step. And as they walked together towards the sunset, she knew that what they had built was stronger than any fleeting passion. It was a love that, like art, had been perfected with time, effort, and patience.

In the first chapter of The Art of Loving, Erich Fromm argues that love, like any art, is not a skill that can be mastered immediately, but rather requires time, dedication, and patience. Fromm explains that most people seek love as if it were a goal that can be quickly achieved, but the truth is that, just like a painter who takes years to perfect his work, authentic love is built step by step, overcoming challenges and learning from each experience. This idea of patience is key in the process of cultivating a deep and lasting relationship. In Alejandra and Martín's case, their connection was not a sudden explosion, but a slow blossoming that required mutual acceptance, space for mistakes, and the willingness to grow together over time. The relationship, like the rose bush they observed in the park, flourished when they both understood that, for love to develop fully, it was necessary to let it grow naturally without forcing it, respecting its own rhythm.