L'amour de ma vie

What I’ve always adored about romantic movies is that love possesses what philosophy can never grasp. Love burns with conviction, aches with raw earnestness, weeps with pain, and soars with unbridled happiness. Philosophy, by contrast, is a hollow echo of grandeur—offering nothing but false splendor and cold abstraction. Love is not a sterile construct of logical axioms. It is an unrelenting tide of emotions, a symphony of beauty and sorrow, a fire of hope and an unyielding hunger for desire. Before philosophy, we bow. But before love, philosophy kneels in fragile surrender

And then there are the songs I cannot listen to without hearing you, Nebula.

"maybe when the time is right, you will find me again"