I was 27 when I wrote this novel, and I feel like I've come far enough to tell this story about first love. That was 14 years old, 27-14=13, so I said "Half of life is first love". Everyone has a first love in this life, which may be happy or sad, divided or combined. Maybe you love him and he loves you, maybe you love him and he doesn't love you. Maybe falling in love means separation, and maybe we will never have the chance to be together again. What I miss now may have nothing to do with love. Even if it is love, it is him who I loved at that time, and myself at that time. Is there any shadow of your past or present in this story? In the summer of 2011, where was your first love?