You are not serious when you are seventeen. You think you are, but you are not. You swear to love each other for ever in the darkness of the night and make love in the backseat of his Dad’s car. You think this is all there is and there will always be music swirling around you to provide a soundtrack for your life. You think summer always comes after the end of school and you have time to hide away from responsibilities and eat as much strawberry ice cream as you can because you will never get fat. You are suspended on a string of infinity, a shining pearl of possibilities. But strings are meant to be torn, ice creams to melt and summers to end. Summer love withers from the cold kiss of winter and just a year later the back seat listens to the drunken giggle of another girl.