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ARIA BEVERLEIGH Today, I spent an extraordinary day with Zaid's family, truly one for the books.
Our collective adventure took us sledding in the mountains, and the joy I experienced is etched in my memory.
Mr. Andrew was quite clumsy but amusing, and he had an air of confidence.
Miss Amber, on the other hand, was incredibly endearing, a bit timid, and reminiscent of a typical caring mother.
As for Aiden—well, Aiden fancied himself as cool, humorously pretended to be a model when girls were around, and epitomized the stereotypical antics of a teenage boy.
Now, let me tell you about Zaid—the best boyfriend I've ever had. He lavished attention on me, never left me alone, held my hand unwaveringly, and didn't once divert his gaze while we careened down the sled run, seemingly worried about any mishap.
He was so unbelievably caring.
Our happiness was contagious, laughter filled the air until our stomachs ached.
Mr. Andrew's mishaps, Aiden's antics—everything was genuinely amusing.
They embraced me like family, as if I were a cherished daughter-in-law, it felt like I had found my true in-laws.
After sledding, we went to a nearby Turkish restaurant to warm up and had a meal while chatting. I got so close to them in a single day that nobody could be happier than me.
The only concern is—my family is not like this. We're colder, more authoritative, more serious, we're nothing like a family. I wonder if these two contrasting families could get along if they were to merge? I hope they do, if not, we have a problem...
A big problem.
Well, now, I find myself alone in my room again, the house eerily quiet, and Christmas is just two days away.
I hope, at least this time, my family returns home to celebrate with me.
I took out the scrapbook I made for Zaid from my closet, gathered a few more supplies – scissors, paints, more pictures, stickers, glitters – and sat on the floor to finish it.
I needed to get a gift too, but I was clueless about what to buy. Clothes felt too basic, perfume too simple—how about a watch? No, nothing came to mind—never mind.
To distract myself, I played "So in Love By Breezee" and began listening to it. It had become my recent favorite, and I felt it would stay that way. Every time I heard it, thoughts of Zaid and me flooded my mind—it was truly beautiful.
Then, on the last page of the scrapbook, I wrote a letter:
My Dearest Zaid,
Wishing you a joyous Christmas as your adoring girlfriend. Life brightened when you entered it, and I'm endlessly grateful that we found each other. You, my love, are a cherished blessing.
