Oranges and Memories: A Tale of Unexpected Encounters

This crowd, it gets to me sometimes. Maybe it's because we once locked eyes here? I find myself oscillating between extremes - there are days when I'm overflowing with love, wanting to embrace and kiss every soul I encounter, and then there are days when I can't bear to look at anyone's face. It's not hatred, never that. I've never entertained the thought of hating people; I just crave solitude. There are moments when I long for absolute stillness, silence so profound that even the faintest sound feels like an intrusion. And yet, in the midst of my solitude, I find myself yearning for someone close, someone who can untangle the chaos in my mind, piece by piece. In those moments, words can't express how cherished I would feel. It's a paradox, really - I feel utterly desolate, like a cat abandoned on a winter's day, and yet, I cling to memories. Do you remember the first time we met? The air was infused with the scent of oranges, a strange blend of familiarity and mystery. I was selling water at the market, and there you were, holding your mother's hand, picking apples with such innocence. Or was it in a schoolyard, perhaps? I stood behind you, mesmerized by the pink ribbon in your hair, while you remained oblivious, mere steps away. We've shared those moments, haven't we? Tell me, who are you, to rewrite a person's past and cast their future into uncertainty?