Dear Cam,

It’s been three months and seven days that you’ve been gone. I know what you’re thinking — …or would have thought — how does a girl who can’t even remember to bring her homework half of the time know exactly how long it’s been? I’ve been counting. I don’t know why, but I can’t seem to stop. Every morning after I watch your video, I think Day __ without Cam. It’s got to the point that it’s kind of involuntary now.

I don’t know why I’m writing you this stupid letter, you’ll never read it anyway. I was looking at this picture and how happy you are. You were happy, weren’t you? It hurts that I’ll never know if this is a real smile. I’ll never know if this moment was even real. If you were so happy with me, why’d you leave, Cam? Why didn’t you talk to me? I could’ve helped you. I would’ve helped you. Was I not enough for you to stay?

You’re a jerk, you know that? How could you do this? How could you leave us all here? I’m a mess, Cam. And this time, you’re not here to bring me flowers or stay the night. You didn’t even say anything. All I got was that text, that one stupid text. You said it’s over. I thought you meant between us. Why didn’t you tell me you meant for you? Why didn’t you ask me to come over and talk you out of it? Why the hell did you have to leave me, Campbell?

It’s been three months and seven days. No matter how mad I still am at you, I love you. I hope there’s an NHL up there for angels. Remember: head up, and stick on the ice.

Love,
Maya.