I still can’t believe it.

One moment, I was completely alone—curled up on the side of the road, surrounded by the noise of a world that didn’t seem to notice me. The sky stretched wide above me, too big, too empty. The ground beneath me felt cold and endless. I was tired. So tired. My stomach ached from hunger, and my legs trembled every time I tried to stand. The kind of tired that seeps into your bones.

And hope? Hope was something I was beginning to forget.

I don’t remember how I ended up there. All I know is that I had been waiting—maybe not for something specific, just… for something different. Something better. Someone.

Then, just when the silence felt unbearable, I heard the sound of wheels crunching gravel.

A man on a bicycle.

I lifted my head slowly. Was I dreaming? Was he real? Part of me was too weak to believe it, but another part—some small, flickering part—hoped he’d see me. Just once, just see me.

And he did.

He stopped. He climbed off his bike and knelt beside me. He didn’t flinch at my dirt, my smell, the sadness in my eyes. He just looked at me as if I mattered. As if I was someone.

No one had done that in a long time.

He reached out gently. I was scared—I didn’t know what to expect—but his hands were calm. His eyes were soft. He wrapped his arms around me, and in that moment, something inside me shifted. I didn’t understand it all, but I felt it:

Kindness.

He spoke to me in a low, steady voice. I didn’t know the words, but I understood the meaning: You’re safe now.

He picked me up and placed me on his motorcycle—warm, steady, moving. I didn’t know where we were going, but I didn’t need to. I was going away from the fear, the cold, the emptiness. I was going toward something. Toward someone.

That ride changed everything.

Since then, I’ve had food in my belly, a soft place to sleep, and hands that pet me gently instead of pushing me away. I’ve learned what it feels like to be safe. To be loved. To be wanted.

I still can’t believe it.

That in a world that rushed past me without a glance, someone stopped. Someone saw me. Someone chose me.

He didn’t just rescue me. He gave me something even bigger:

A second chance at life.

And every day since, I’ve tried to say thank you—in tail wags, in quiet looks, in staying close and never letting go.

Because I’ll never forget what it felt like to be alone.

And I’ll never stop being grateful for the stranger who became my forever.