The romantic venue of our first kiss (100 feet up a tree in climbing harnesses just hours after the campers left) did not match the setting of our breakup: a basement that smelled like cats, punctuated by his post-coital whisper of “I think we were better as friends.”
The basement was yet another beginning; our four-month relationship was followed by eight months of stilted conversations and heavy silences in our tight-knit camp community. It wasn’t wasted time, though. You can learn a lot about love by watching your first love meet the love of his life right in front of you.