I don’t remember the last time I felt warmth. Maybe it was days… or weeks ago. Time has become a slow, icy river that drags me along without mercy. My body trembles uncontrollably, and each breath is an effort that steals what little strength I have left. Hunger has emptied me from the inside, as if someone had ripped out everything that held me, and the cold has settled into my bones like a cruel guest that doesn’t want to leave
From the outside, anyone might think I’m just another dog, one of the many the street has forgotten. A motionless lump in a corner, a piece of life that no longer matters. But if they looked closely, they’d see my sunken eyes, pleading for something as simple as a hug. I don’t ask for luxuries, I ask for nothing more than a moment of relief, a place where I don’t have to fight to survive every second.
Sometimes I close my eyes and imagine someone stopping. That warm hands gently lift me up, that a soft voice whispers that everything will be alright. In that dream, I feel the beat of a human heart next to mine, and for a moment, the cold disappears.
But when I open my eyes, reality hits me like a ton of bricks. The street is still empty, the wind is still cutting into my skin, and my stomach is still empty. Even so, I cling to that image, because it’s the only thing keeping me going. I don’t know if that moment will ever come, but every heartbeat I have left is dedicated to waiting for it
Because even in the deepest darkness, I still hold onto a spark of hope. And as long as that spark remains alive, I will keep waiting… waiting for those arms to save me from this darkness.