Dear Catalina,
It's been a week. I wonder what you're doing now. My phsyciatrist suggested to write letters to someone. Someone I loved. I immediately thought of you.
I hope you're doing well. I wonder what it's like, and if you're okay. I don't understand how it happened and I am facing every moment of my time now contemplating what I could have done for it not to have happened.
We had been fighting a lot. It was almost all nonsense. Extremely unnecessary things. I was an asshole to you. I don't know why and how, but my inner douche came out and lashed at you, and I am sorry for that. One of the many things I am sorry for.
I haven't been at school. It's too hard to see people stare at me. I don't like it when people stare, and you knew that. I just never understood why people have to study me. I felt voulnerable.
i hope you didn't cut your hair, or did anything crazy to your appearence. I'm not sure if you can do that, but I hope you didn't. I loved your dark brown, wavy hair. I still remember every part of your face. I can remember every single shade of green in your eyes. I remember the three freckles on your right cheek that were shaped like a triangle. You hated them, but those freckles were one of the thousand reasons why I loved you.
I wish you would come back.
Nate