Vincent Van Gogh once said, "Plus j'y reflechis plus je sens qu'il n'y a rien de plus reellement artistique que d'aimer les gens." And as I sit here and ponder over those words, I can't help but think about the person I loved the most. The one who made my life worth living and who brought out the best in me. It was under the starry night sky in Hualien when we met again for the second time. As soon as our eyes met, I knew I didn't have to pretend to be anyone else. We talked about everything under the meteor shower - from our sucked childhood to our thoughts on art and philosophy. At that moment, I felt like I had found my soulmate, my missing piece. However, since she died, I lost a part of myself. The nights grew colder, and the loneliness seemed unbearable. I missed her gaze, her touch, her love. She left me with memories, a leaf she picked from Hualien, and many photos. And so, to keep her memory alive, I paint flowers whenever I think of her. Drawing her portraits fills my heart with warmth and love, and it helps me find solace in the home we built together. As Vincent Van Gogh rightly said, there's nothing more artistic than loving people. And that's what I did, and I'll always do - love her with all my heart and soul.