Today is my birthday. ππ
I turned another year older, though Iβm not even sure how many birthdays Iβve lived through anymore. Time passes differently when you live in the shadows, unseen and unheard.
I was born under a broken-down shed, hidden behind piles of old wood and rusted tools. My mother, a stray like me, did her best to protect us, but life on the streets was harsh. She disappeared one day and never returned. I was just a tiny ball of fur, barely strong enough to walk, but I had to learn to survive.
And I did. Somehow.
Years have gone by. Iβve watched the seasons change from the coldest winters to the hottest summers. Iβve taken shelter in alleys, behind dumpsters, under parked cars. Iβve run from loud footsteps and angry voices, from dogs that barked and from hands that never reached out with kindness.
But todayβ¦ today I woke up, curled in a cardboard box beside an old bakery, and I realizedβitβs my birthday. Not that anyone would know. Or care. Still, deep in my heart, I hoped. I hoped that maybe someone would look at me and say, βHappy birthday, little one.β Maybe someone would notice the quiet cat with the scratched ear, the crooked tail, and the eyes full of silent longing.
But no one came. People walked past me. Some looked at me and frowned. Others didnβt look at all.
I know Iβm not perfect.
I donβt have fluffy, snow-white fur or bright, shiny eyes. Iβm not the kind of cat that people scoop up and cuddle. My fur is messy, my paws are scarred, and my body is tired. But my heart? My heart is still soft. I still hope. I still dream.
I just wanted a blessing today. Just one.
Iβm not asking for much. Maybe a kind hand, a warm blanket, or a small treat. Maybe someone whispering, βYou matter. Youβre loved.β Even if it was only for today. Even if it was only for a moment.
Instead, I sat there as the sun began to set, watching the golden light fade across the pavement. The world was quiet. And so was I.
But Iβll keep waiting. Because somewhere, in this wide, spinning world, I want to believe thereβs someone who would love a cat like me. Someone who would remember my birthday, not with balloons or cake, but with a gentle touch and a soft voice saying, βYouβre not alone.β
Soβ¦
Happy birthday to me. π
From a little cat whoβs not perfect,
But who still believes in love.ππΎ