Innocense

First loves hit different at camps and summer breaks. That rush feels like everything when you're young—a feeling you chase your whole life, chasing ghosts of what you thought you found. It's not built to last. It's raw heat, salt-soaked skin, and the knowledge that it's already dying. That's what makes it burn so hard. This piece doesn't romanticize. It captures two people the way memory actually works—fraying, fading, sun-damaged. Raw texture. Bleached-out tones. A hard look at the temporary forevers we all abandoned on the boardwalk, the ones that still sting when you think about them.