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"A diary all of a sudden?"

Youngju hit my thigh and said.

"Don't you rember what Picasso said?"

"......"

Picasso's words.

'A painting is just another way of keeping a diary.'

He wrote diaries with his paintings. And most of those diaries are called masterpieces.

Simply put, he habitually painted sothing that happened to him or sothing he saw.

But the hidden aning is different. If there is one thing common among artists in any field, it is that their lives and thoughts are lted into their works.

Such thoughts accumulate and create a work of art.

Picasso sumd up the process of creating a work in a short sentence instead of a long explanation.

"A diary. That's a good idea."

"Do you have enough painting materials?"

"No, I used them all up painting the lilies."

"There's no art supply store here. I'll send them from Seoul, so text what you need."

"Okay."

"Make sure you send it. It's okay to waste ti, but don't put down the brush."

"Ha ha, thanks."

"Let's have dinner. I'll set the table today, so you rest."

"Youngju."

"What now."

"Thanks."

"Bullshit, setting a table is no big deal."

"Not that. Thanks for being by my side."

"......"

"Stay by my side."

"......"

There's no response from Youngju. I thought he'd kick out and scream about ruining soone's marriage.

"......"

Strange. It's not the reaction I expected. I lay down and looked up at Youngju. His face is as red as a ripe apple.

"What's wrong? Are you sick?"

"......"

"You shouldn't drink. The sun is still hot during the day, did you wander around too much?"

Suddenly, Youngju rushed at and choked .

"Shut up! If you don't talk, at least we'll be halfway there! Oh! This guy always talks too much!"

"Uh? What's this? Why suddenly? Cough! It hurts! It hurts!"

"Shut up! It was just nice for a change, and you ruin it!"

"What, what? What did I do?"

"Idiot, shut up!"

* * *

The next day at the harbor.

Holding her luggage and checking the ferry schedule, Youngju sits on a bench a bit away from the bustling harbor, staring at the incoming boats before breaking the silence.

"Once I get on, I'll send the materials right away, so text today."

"Okay."

Youngju looks at my face with wide eyes.

"Don't just curl up in a corner and cry, kiddo."

"Haha. Hey, co closer and talk, you reek of booze."

"Ugh... I drank too much yesterday."

"I've never seen Seo Youngju that drunk before. Do you rember last night, climbing up the pavilion, holding slippers and singing?"

"......"

"Climbing over the stone wall, pretending to ride a horse, that was you."

"S*t, that's embarrassing."

"Haha."

"I'll die if you say it at work."

"You have to go to work to say it, dude."

As the ferry docks and announcents play, Youngju begins to stand up, grabbing his luggage. But I grab Youngju's hand.

"There's still ti. It just docked, about 15 minutes."

"......"

"Stay a bit longer."

"......Okay."

I've known Youngju for over ten years.

Why does parting feel particularly hard this ti, despite the many etings and farewells we've had?

Have I been too alone?

Even though I held onto Youngju, intending to leave, I said nothing for 15 minutes. There was nothing particularly to say.

Youngju too, just sat quietly next to , looking at the ferry.

Ti seems to fly especially fast today. In the blink of an eye, those 15 minutes passed. As the final announcent plays, Youngju stands up with his luggage.

"I'm going now."

"Yeah."

"Don't cry and wait, I'll co again."

"Haha, am I a kid?"

"Leaving."

"Okay."

Youngju, dragging his luggage, heads towards the ferry. I silently watch her retreating figure.

Arriving at the ferry, Youngju hands over her ticket and glances back at . I wave from a distance. Instead of waving back, Youngju raises his middle finger, but that's just her charm.

I sit on the bench, quietly watching until the ferry carrying Youngju disappears from view.

Ticklish.

Sothing tickles my nose.

Is it the wind, or just my odd mood today?

As the last passengers for Jeju Island leave like the ebb tide, only the harbor staff remain, cleaning the now empty harbor. After watching for an hour, I get up and look at the sky.

Sohow, I don't feel like going straight back to the accommodation today.

It feels like returning there would only bring the loneliness of the noisy weekend spent with Youngju.

I put on my helt, get on my scooter, and look towards the direction of the museum.

Then it strikes .

"Ah, right. I should have taken Youngju to the museum. Lea went in, there's no reason Youngju couldn't."

Stupid .

Forgetting to show the things that matter most to my closest friend.

I gaze at the horizon where Youngju's ferry has disappeared.

"Well, she said she'll co again. There will be a chance, I guess."

I sit on the scooter and start it energetically. The electric scooter doesn't roar like a gasoline bike, but I still feel its power as I push the start button and speed away from the harbor, enjoying the sea breeze.

The top speed of an electric scooter isn't much, but it still feels good.

Yes, instead of going straight to the accommodation, let's go to the museum today.

Looking forward to what new aspects my hero, Van Gogh, will show .

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