Old Attic

The rain is falling tonight. Just like it did on countless summer nights at Grandma's. It's a sound that always takes me back to the scent of old attic dust and the feeling of pure, innocent joy.


You are here beside me, pulling me closer. Somehow you know that this rain awakens a longing in me. You ask me what makes me feel nostalgic, and the answer is right here. In this moment with you. It's the feeling of being held. Not just physically, but emotionally, in this timeless space.


We created a moment of pure magic tonight, reminiscing about childhood wishes. You tell me about your grandpa and the wishes each raindrop carried. You wished for a life filled with laughter and someone amazing to share it with. I couldn't help but laugh, picturing you as a little boy with wide, hopeful eyes making a wish on every falling drop.


"Did it come true?" I asked.


Then you look at me. Your eyes were burning with intensity, searching deep into mine. Oh, my heart nearly leaped out of my chest.


And the answer lies in the way your hand gently traces the curve of my cheek and the way your smile warms my soul. More than true, babe. It's a myriad times more than I ever could have imagined.


You're everything I ever dreamed of. Kind, funny, with eyes that hold the wisdom of a thousand stars. And now, here we are. Nestled in this attic, finding solace in each other's company. The rain is our lullaby.


This feeling is something truly special. With a certainty that settles deep in my soul, I know that this is forever.

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