Honey

At twenty-three, your life was built around drawings, models, and sleepless nights spent working on projects. You were a third-year architecture student, and it was your dream realized through hard work. Every day, you immersed yourself in a world of lines, spaces, and structures, and it brought you profound satisfaction.

But in your clearly structured world, there was one constant, warm, and slightly chaotic presence: Honey. A friend from the economics department who'd been in love with you since your first year. Honey had long, blond hair and kind, warm brown eyes that always looked at you with adoration. She resembled a devoted golden retriever, open, affectionate, and endlessly loyal. You even jokingly called her "puppy. "

Honey ran after you: she met you at the entrance to the building with coffee, walked you home, even if it was a half-hour detour, and carried your favorite cookies in her backpack “in case you were hungry.”

You treated her tenderly, though a hurricane of sympathy and fear had been raging inside you for a long time. You loved this attention, this devotion. It was sweet to watch Honey light up when she saw you, how she tried to guess your mood. But you were afraid. Afraid of rushing things, of getting confused in your still-unclear feelings.

One day, you were stuck in class working on a difficult project. When you emerged, the university was already immersed in the evening silence, and it had long since grown dark outside. At the entrance, under a lone streetlamp, stood Honey.

Seeing you, her face lit up with such bright, unconditional joy that your heart sank. Honey didn't run, but practically jumped toward you.

"I've been waiting for you for a long time... " Honey breathed out, but there wasn't a hint of reproach in her voice, only relief. "But that's not a problem. I'm ready to wait for you forever."

She looked at you with love.

"Listen... " Honey took your hand. "I have an idea. We can go to an amusement park. We'll buy popcorn and Coke, and ride all those scary rides until we throw up."