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A woman paints at an easel in an art gallery with people looking at paintings in the background.

A woman paints at an easel in an art gallery with people looking at paintings in the background.

Some loves are born without a sound. Not through words. Not through eyes. But through a brush… And a girl who poured her world onto canvas, not into conversation. She sat in the far corner of the gallery, away from the crowd, shaping new worlds with each stroke. Simple clothes. Steady gaze. Eyes that spoke louder than any voice. Every week, I returned—without reason, not for the art… but for her. We never exchanged words, not even names. Only colors spoke, and my heart—quietly—surrendered. One day, her sketchbook fell. I picked it up. Inside were drawings of a boy. On the edge of each page, she had written: “I wish… one day, his eyes would align with mine.” That’s when I understood: Two souls can paint each other, without ever speaking a single word. See more