It was the summer after my freshman year of college. It had been a terrible year, lonely and confusing –- I missed my family, I hadn’t made very many friends, and I still had no idea what I wanted to major in. But I had met someone I liked, and to my surprise, he liked me back. I decided to take summer school classes and move in to his apartment for a few weeks to be with him.

On the Fourth of July my boyfriend and I went to San Francisco to have dinner and watch the fireworks. Dinner wasn’t so great, but the fireworks made up for it. “Ah, young love,” commented an older gentleman upon seeing the two of us wrapped in each other’s arms, staring up at the sky. During the drive home, Bryan Adams’ “Heaven” came on the radio and we both sang along. “Oh, thinking about our younger years / There was only you and me / We were young and wild and free.” Life seemed perfect for the first time.

Yet little by little the perfection was chipping away. It was a first relationship for both of us. Our lack of communication and inexperience was apparent, and I began to realize that I’d made a very bad decision. We had a fight and I spent a few nights on the couch, too stubborn to try making up. But I had nowhere else to go. The few friends I had were at home, a hundred miles away. I didn’t even have a car. If he had kicked me out, I would have been helpless. I was completely dependent on him.

Two days later he walked into the living room, sat down on the couch beside me, and said the obvious words: “We need to talk.” After some tears were shed (by me), we were okay again. But our relationship wasn’t the same. I had learned that he could hurt me, and I refused to be vulnerable. I began building an invisible wall between us. When he spent time with other people and I was jealous, I pretended not to care. When he came home, I stayed at my computer and ignored him. Three months later, everything crumbled. By then I had gotten my own apartment and moved out.

I know it was for the best. I needed to gain independence and find myself. I wasn’t a complete person and I had tried to fill the missing parts with another person, but that never works. Now every time I hear “Heaven” I’m reminded of my first love and my bittersweet naïveté.