When Did It Go Wrong?

Chapter 5: Flashback

Perhaps you might believe that I'm overly fixated on my conversations with Jasmine. Some of you might even label it as an obsession, but to others, it might appear perfectly normal.

However, allow me to delve into some of the background information that I intentionally omitted. When we reach a certain age, we begin to contemplate the childhood dreams we once held dear. Some of those aspirations may be logical, while others may be wild and outlandish. I recall a time when I wished to become a Power Ranger.

During our high school years, we observed our peers forming romantic relationships, and it seemed like nothing but unadulterated joy and fun. We began to contemplate our own parents' experiences and draw connections between the two.

Ultimately, we will all crave companionship with the opposite sex, whether as friends (a concept that is disparaged by the current generation), in a romantic relationship, or simply as an acquaintance. Foolishly, I believed that once you establish a connection with someone, that bond lasts forever. Why? Simply because if you ask our parents if they knew anyone before meeting our mothers, the answer is always no. The possibility of them lying cannot be discounted, and their advice may not always be reliable.

I was raised in a loving household for some time. Witnessing my parents' love for each other and hearing about their shared journey led me to believe in the existence of love, and I still do. Most parents raise their children with the idea that being a doctor, engineer, or any profession that provides financial stability is the ultimate objective. Others desire their children to follow in their footsteps and maybe even surpass them. It is the principles that we instil in our children that have an impact on their lives.

My mother worked in a private primary school teaching French for a while, while my father was an electrician, an independent one with no guaranteed monthly income. Nonetheless, they were able to provide us with everything we required at that time, not necessarily what we desired, and I am not complaining. My uncles held decent jobs.

Thus, obtaining one of the professions I previously mentioned would be the goal.

However, for some reason, my aspirations were much simpler. I wanted to be a florist in a small neighbourhood in some random American city with my wife. Seeing the delight on people's faces as they purchased flowers for their loved ones, capturing each moment for my collection, which I hoped would be published after my death so that people could recall the love they had for others during these times of hatred and envy.

Honestly, I know the reason why. I was probably under the influence of a movie. One of those 2012 romantic comedies implanted certain dreams and ideas in my mind that may appear foolish to some, but they made perfect

sense to me. I will soon be a teacher, but deep down, I still desire to be that florist in an American suburban shop.

Bringing you back to my conversations with Jasmine. As our conversations grew more intense, I found myself spending sleepless nights pondering that dream, envisioning what my shop would look like, the types of flowers I would cultivate for my customers, teaching children about flowers, capturing my customers' smiles, playing old jazz and rock and roll tunes in the morning, and romantic songs in the afternoon. And most importantly, returning home with her at sunset. All of these dreams came to life with that first "Hello." Dreams that will soon be replaced and then fade away forever.