After a day's work, you will step out of the aging building to trek to your apartment. You will see a fruit seller pushing through a wheelbarrow full of oranges, the telltale sign that they are back in season. You will ask for 10 pieces- 5 for you and 5 for her as always- but end up purchasing 5 because you remember that it is no longer you and her, it's only just you.

You will continue the rest of the short trek in contemplative silence; opening your chest of treasures to once again kiss the memories that have kept you sane, before putting them away for safeguarding.

You open the chest and grab at the right frame, the one where you and she talked on the phone for the first time. Two passionate lovers, intoxicated by each other's breaths from miles away, amazed by the security you have found in one another, thirsty for the bridge of distance to be closed between you both. You remember how she jokingly mentioned you coming over and how she could hear the obvious smile in your voice when you said “yes” to the spontaneous ramble. You remembered how you both giggled at the front door, the bag of oranges that you bought squeezing in between the hurried embrace shared between you and your lover.

She loved oranges so much and she loved December even more.

You remember her moan of surprise when her fingers met with your naked pussy under the mini dress you wore. You remember how she fucked you then and made love to you that evening. Two girls, equally foolish and equally sentimental to have fallen in love in December.

You kiss that timeframe, put it away then pull out another one. You and her, the night she told you she'd be relocating. How you physically deflated into her arms, heart shattered in grief. how she held you and kissed your oríkì into your ears, how she read you poetry and you thought all night about how you'd lose all of this come January.

You remember the night you told her you loved her, a private thing you arranged for her just before her going away party. You kissed her forehead and rubbed gloss on her lips to ease the harmattan cracks. You told her "I love you, so I rejoice with your new journey. I hate that we have to stop something so beautiful but I am happy you are leaving me for a place where you'd be accepted. Remember always that you hold my heart.” She replied with "I love you too" in between her teary kisses and it broke your heart. You are consoled that she would live and love without shame, you are consoled that you got to share the moment with her.

You have gotten to your place now, so you head to the kitchen to place your oranges into a bowl. You wash your hands and slice them into quarters like you learned from her. You hold back the tears that threaten to spill as you sip on the sweet citrus of the orange. You miss her, you wish you had told her you loved her sooner, you wish the country worked, you wished the universe was on your side. You sigh and check her latest post on Instagram. She is beaming rays, hands clothed with the muffins you knitted her, eyes sparkling like one who heard a silly joke. She captions it as "first snow <3" you capture it all into a frame, kiss the memory, then add it to the chest in your heart.

You smile and chuckle- a bittersweet sound- then tease yourself out of your misery, "Who falls in love in December?".