Dear journal,
I found something interesting today. A met a wonderful, beautiful, talented little thing named May. She's as short and sweet as the month she's named after. She's everything the Haus of Lyon needs but I don't know how to get her on my...
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Dear Journal,
We've just reached Rome.
It's our two-month anniversary. (And yes...I've been counting.)
The days were filled with love, laughter, and unforgettable experiences. We made love in the mornings and evenings, savoring every intimate moment. The food was divine—each meal felt like a celebration. We swam in the sea, the saltwater embracing us like a new beginning, and explored museums, marveling at art and history.
Our adventures led us back to the vineyard where we first kissed.
It felt like a lifetime ago, yet as if no time had passed at all. We lay on the blanket, surrounded by the vast, silent expanse of the vineyard, and looked up at the stars. It was as though the universe itself was giving us a moment of quiet reflection.
I thought about buying the vineyard, but quickly dismissed the idea. My mother would adore it more than I ever could.
As we lay there, May and I talked about how we ended up here, together in this beautiful place. I told her it felt like the stars above, something that was always meant to be.
She teased me, calling me a hopeless romantic, and I couldn't deny it. There's a part of me that truly believes in destiny and the magic of moments like these. I kissed her, savoring the warmth of her lips against mine, and looked forward to many more moments like this with her.
Life with May feels like an endless journey of discovery and joy.
I can't wait to see where the next chapter takes us.
