Ephemeral

My friend Hannah introduced us.

His first words directly to me were, "I slept in her closet." Apparently he and a few other of the first-year counselors had had a sleepover at Hannah's house once and spent the night in her closet just for kicks.

We got along great. He was so goofy and fun to talk to and friends with everyone. We both loved the small things about camp that most people didn’t appreciate or didn’t like. Even though I’d just met him, most of the first-year staff was friends and we'd always hang out in a large clump whenever possible.

We met on Tuesday.

We played frisbee with a few other people instead of attending the “mandatory” evening program on Thursday.

We kissed while lying under the stars on Friday.

Until that night, I had tried to convince myself I didn't like him. I’d just met him. I thought he was a great guy, just as a friend. Besides, he was friends with tons of other girls. Why should I be any different? But I was. And I realized that if I found out he didn’t like me or if he were with another girl, I would be very disappointed. I couldn't believe how lucky I was to have him as such an important part of my life.

At first, keeping the secret was kind of fun. I felt even closer to him. It made our rendezvous even more exciting. Nothing made me happier than getting a text from him asking if I was OD that night (On Duty, meaning I had to stay in with the campers) and telling me that he wasn’t either.

The first week, we weren’t supposed to have been able to see each other until Friday. I was OD twice, he was OD once on a different day, and my unit had a camp out. But somehow, things would always fall into place so that I got to see him every night from Monday until Friday. I took this as a sign from the universe that we were meant to be together

Then the secret wasn’t fun anymore. I hated when I'd see him during all-camp events and all we could do, as dictated by our own unsaid rules, was smile and wave. Maybe we'd exchange a hi-how-are-you. But never a hug. Never anything more.

Some of our mutual friends assumed we'd at least kissed but we weren't sure how they knew. No one saw our first kiss under the stars, hundreds of yards away from everyone else. He hung out with a lot of girls, so why did the fact that we spent so much time together mean we were a Thing?

After a few days, we stopped trying to figure out how people knew. Every night I wasn't OD, I'd text him as I was leaving because my kids went to bed later than his, and we'd find a place. I loved knowing I had someone that I could depend on to hang out with every night. We'd talk about how we were going to take our days off together during second session, and all the places in his hometown that he wanted to show me.

One of my co-counselors at the time had a real boyfriend on camp.

They had met three years ago and ended up going to the same college. They would both come up to each other in public regularly. When I overheard their conversations, they were never anything important. Just chatting. Sometimes a hug.

But we would never do that. I was so jealous.

We communicated almost solely over text, except when we hung out at night after the campers went to bed. We did hang out a few times in public—one Saturdays, I visited him during my break while he was doing coverage during free time. The next week, we met in the staff lounge before we had coverage. We even cuddled and held hands in the staff lounge. We were hidden behind chairs and under pillows, but I thought it was a big deal.

At the end of the session, we weren't talking as much. We kissed for the last time on the Thursday of the third and final week of the session. We were both OD on Friday.

On Saturday, he took someone else's OD, even though I told him I was free and he knew it would be our second to last night together of the session. I found out only upon texting him to ask what was going on. He didn't even go out of his way to tell me.

We sat on the porch and talked for a bit. Everything seemed okay. We even held hands and continued to talk about our plans for the next session.

Some older campers were doing a “raid” that night, so he had to go back inside in case any of the campers he was watching woke up. I knew it would be the last time we spoke before the session ended, so I wanted to say real goodbye that I'd mentally rehearsed, but he casually said good night and went inside.

On closing day, I texted him goodbye, he responded, and that was it. We had no contact during our two days' break.

I was one of the first people back in the staff lounge when our break was over. When he came back, I wasn't one of the first people he said hi to. Though we did exchange "Hi, how are you?"s, he didn't sit with me; he sat with my friend. He even put his arm around her.

I decided to give him space. I didn't speak to him or text him until the next day (which is quite a while at camp) when I asked about our days off as a last-ditch effort to save whatever it was that we had. He said he didn't know if he would get the days off he asked for, but there's always open camp--nights when staff are allowed to go out once their kids are in bed.

His comment about open camp was the one and only thing that gave me hope that maybe it wasn't over.

That night, I decided to finally confront him. I needed an answer. By a stroke of luck, I happened to see him walking with no one else around.

I asked if we could talk.

"If you want this to end, it's fine," I lied. "But it's not fair to not let me know."

He said he kind of did. I knew it was coming, but it still hurt to hear. He couldn't put into words why. But he said it wasn't me, it was him. That I was still one of his closest friends. I still fully believe that he meant it at the time because I had comforted him about a difficult loss. He'd opened up to me about it after knowing me for less than a week.

We ate breakfast and dinner at the same table the next day, which ironically, was more contact than we usually had in public. My friend and sole confidante on all matters camp romance even thought everything was okay when she saw us together.

Although we talked during the rest of intersession, and even a couple days into camp as friends, I felt like there was a huge hole in my life. In a more literal sense, I had about two and a half hours between the time my campers went to bed and staff curfew that I had no idea what to do with.

But I was missing something more than that. I was missing someone very close to me, even considering we were at camp, and someone I counted on.

I was missing something specific to look forward to at camp. Camp is a magical experience as a whole, but those days off with him gave me something in particular to look forward to.

I moved on with my life. I was a lot closer with both my co-counselors and my campers that session. Though it was in a very different way, I had new people to love. Slowly, the hole began to close.

He got a concussion at the end of the first week and after being at home for several days, decided not to return to camp. I like to think the universe had us break up because being together and not seeing each other would have been almost impossible. No matter how close you are as a couple, camp relationships aren't meant to last. They're like a dream you know you have to wake up from, but want to hold onto until the last second. They have a very finite shelf life and all you can do is the make the most of it.

On the last day of camp, he came back to visit his friends on staff after the campers had gone.

We never even made eye contact.