Henry

Dear diary,
This morning, I woke up not knowing that today I would fall in love.Kelvin jumped onto the bed and greeted me with enthusiastic licks to the face. I laughed and played with him for a while, until he leapt back down and padded toward the door — his subtle reminder that it was time for his walk.Still groggy, I dragged myself into the shower. I undressed, ready to wash off the night, only to find the water ice cold. So there I stood, completely naked, goosebumps rising on my skin, as Kelvin stared at me with his leashless impatience. We were both waiting for something warm to begin.Eventually, the water heated. I stepped in quickly, let it run over me, brushed my teeth, and toweled off with a warm embrace of cotton. I tossed the towel aside, pulled on my underwear, got dressed, and clipped the leash to Kelvin’s collar.We stepped outside into the sunlit morning, and that’s when it happened.There, across the street, crouching down to pet his dog, was a vision. A sun-kissed Adonis, shirtless, golden hair glinting in the light, with piercing blue eyes. It felt like time slowed. He looked up at me, smiled wide, and said, “What a cute boy.”I froze. My cheeks burned. I nervously touched my hair and managed a shy “Thank you.”
He grinned, stood up, and added with a laugh, “I meant your dog.”
I wanted the ground to swallow me. But he laughed — a warm, generous laugh — and I couldn’t help but laugh too.His name was Henry. His dog, Phillip. Our pups immediately took to one another, sniffing and circling, already breaking the ice for us. He invited me to sit with him on a bench nearby.We talked. He works in advertising, something about a new campaign for a running shoe brand — that’s why he was out running with Phillip. I complimented the shoes, and maybe also how incredibly fit he looked in them.Then, suddenly, he brought us back to that moment — the “cute boy” mix-up. He looked at me and said, “You know, when I said that about Kelvin… I have to admit, you’re not so bad yourself, cute boy.”My heart did somersaults. I smiled, whispered another “thank you,” and that’s when I saw him lean in.
Closer.
And closer.His lips touched mine — soft, warm, searching. I let myself melt into it. Our mouths opened gently. He tasted sweet, like something you didn’t know you’d missed. Time disappeared for a moment, until Phillip — the traitor — decided to bolt down the street.Henry jumped up, laughing and cursing under his breath, chasing after him. I knew then that he wouldn't make it back.I sat alone on the bench with Kelvin, heart racing, lips tingling, wondering how something so brief could feel so real.And now, back home, I’m left with questions.Was it love?
Does love only count if it becomes something? Or can it live in a moment — fleeting and pure — like a summer breeze brushing your skin?I think… I choose to believe in love, no matter how long it stays.Even if it vanishes with the wag of a dog’s tail.