Yours Truly, Camila (Camren Fanfic)

February 21, 2015

Dear Friend,

I'm not getting any better. I wish I was, but I'm not. I met with my therapist on Wednesday and well, things may have took a turn for the worse. Our conversation went something like this,

"Hi Camila, it's been a while. How are you?"

"Alright," I answered.

"Do you want to talk to me about what's going on? What you're feeling?"

"Not really."

"Camila, you have to talk if you want me to help you," the woman replied, concerned at my mental being. I replied with silence, not really wanting to communicate with the woman and just wanting the session to be over. "Camila, honey, you know I'm here for you and that-"

"My parents are gone. Forever. Do you really think that me talking to you will solve that?" I snapped. Don't get me wrong, I've never snapped at my therapist before. She's always been such a wonderful and patient person to me, but in that moment, I just felt like she's only been talking to me all these years for the money; because it's her job to do so. I also felt like we were going back in circles and not making any progress. It's been three years and we were back at the same spot, me having to speak about the death of my parents and how much it hurts.

Long story short, I walked out the room after snapping at her. I did call her the night of and apologized. I informed her how right now, I don't think talking about it will help my situation. She advised that maybe she's not the one for me to talk to, but that I do need to talk to someone about it because sometimes letting your emotions out is better than locking them up inside and waiting for it to one day just explode, which from personal experience, is very overwhelming.

It's not only my therapist that I've been pushing away, it's everyone. I came back to school on Thursday which right now that I realize it, was probably the worse idea I've had in a while. During third period, Lauren and I were given the opportunity to have a free hour to ourselves. In that hour, all I wanted to do was read, but of course, Lauren wanted to talk, to see if I'm okay.

"How are you feeling, Camz? Are you still sick?" Lauren asked, putting her hand on my wrist.

"No, I'm feeling much better," I lied.

"Good, I've really missed seeing you. It sucked that I couldn't see you in school for three days plus we didn't even get to see each other for Valentine's Day." I should probably tell you that at that time, I hadn't seen Lauren since she left for Alabama. During the days when I was "sick," Lauren had tried to visit me at my house, but I told her that I was really ill and contagious so that might not be the best idea to see me.

That morning, Lauren wanted to drive me to school, but I told her I got my car back. Another lie. I ended up walking to school that day.

"Yeah I missed you too, Lauren," I replied. That wasn't a lie.

"Can I tell you something?" Lauren asked, excitement forming on her face.

"Yeah, what?"

"I wanted to tell you as soon as I got back, but I didn't see you and I wanted to tell you in person." She continued, "okay so I talked to the head coach of Alabama during my visit and he told me that I'm basically part of the team!"

"That's great Lauren," I replied, trying to be excited for her, but of course my melancholic mood overpowering that.

"Yeah," Lauren responded blankly, expecting more from my reaction. "Look, is everything okay Camz?"

"Yeah, I just want to read if that's okay."

"Of course that's okay, but something's off about you. What's wrong baby?" she asked, a look of concern forming in her eyes.

"Nothing, I just want to read my book."

"Camz, you know I'm here for you right? You can tell me anything," Lauren said sincerely. Her words being almost the exact same as my therapist's.

"I'm fine Lauren. I just want to read my book," I told her, more sternly this time. Lauren responded by looking at me in a way which she was waiting for me to actually tell her what was wrong. But I couldn't. I didn't want to.

"Camz," Lauren started.

"Lauren, can you just leave me alone, please?" I snapped.

"No, Camila. Something is obviously wrong that you're not telling me and I want to help you. But I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong," Lauren protested, her words again seemingly the same as my therapist's.

"Okay fine then I'll leave if you won't," I declared, getting up off my seat and storming out the library, not looking back.

I stormed out the whole school building, not wanting to go back. I walked to a nearby beach, about an hour of walking distance from the school.

The beach always provided me some serenity and I always thought that going helped clear my mind. I spent my time at the beach watching the waves move back and forth. I'd later check my phone, finding five messages from Lauren.

My Princess [9:37 am]: Camz, where did you go? I would've ran after you but I can't risk getting in trouble right now with softball and all

My Princess [9:48 am]: Did I do or say something wrong? I'm sorry if I did. Please just talk to me.

My Princess [12:36 pm]: Where are you, Camila? The girls and I are at lunch and you're not here. We're all really worried about you.

My Princess [12:42 pm]: Camila, please. It's taking everything in me not to just leave and find you.

My Princess [12:50 pm]: Can you at least tell me that you're okay? That you're safe? I love you.

Me [12:55 pm]: I'm alright. I'm sorry for storming out like that, I just have some things on my mind that I can't and don't want to talk about right now. I need to be alone. Don't worry about me please. I love you so much, Lauren.

Lauren didn't text me back after that. Though, she'd later text me that same night to say I love you and goodnight.

I also didn't go to school the following day, Friday. My grandma tried talking to me, but I didn't want to talk. I just wanted to be alone.

By now, I think that when I tell people that I want to be left alone, they pretty much give me the space that I need. I guess that they realized how much of a stubborn person I can be and how forcing words out of my mouth wouldn't do any help.

I know I'll eventually get over this. You'd think that after a couple years of facing the same problem that I would know how to handle it by now, but I don't. All I know is, living a happy and normal life might just be too good to be true.

Yours Truly,
Camila