I bought it in August of this summer when one of my best friends—Charlotte—came back to Michigan for one of her yearly visits. I thought I would try out taking pictures of all us hanging out, enjoying our summer together. 

It was exciting not knowing exactly how each picture would turn out, but all I knew was within each picture was a memory I could never forget. If I did, I would be able to look back on the pictures and smile.

I miss hanging out with Charlotte, but even more, I miss her — her personality and her passion for everyone she loves, her quirky little smiles and sarcastic remarks. Everything about her is so amazing; her funny stories from North Carolina and her late-night Snapchat videos make me roll on the floor laughing.

Every time I see Charlotte, someone is crying, and there is lots of hugging—I caught it all on camera. There are pictures of all of us eating pizza, there are pictures of us playing board games, there are pictures of all of us enjoying our twenty-four hours together.

When Charlotte left the next day, all of us were so sad; we each gave her the biggest hugs. We watched her get into her car and drive away. We would have to wait half of a year to see her again. We closed the door and sat on the couch and just looked at each other wondering how we would survive another one hundred eighty-two days waiting.

An hour or two later, I was at home in my room holding my disposable camera thinking about all the memories that were inside. I felt like that camera connected Charlotte and me, even though she is seven hundred twenty-seven and a half miles away.

I kept using that camera for months after, but one day I set it down and never picked it up again.

I still to this day have no clue where that camera went, and it’s been four months since I bought it. I still think about the pictures and what they would look like hanging on my wall, but some of the memories are gone, and I have nothing to look back on.

I feel like seven hundred miles is too far away now; I don’t feel connected to Charlotte through that camera anymore. The only thing I have to remember that one day in August that went by too quickly is the Snapchats of her and I laughing—nothing else.

I miss Charlotte even more than I did before I had the camera. When the camera comes to mind, I try looking for it, but I never have luck finding it. I miss her so much. I can’t wait to see her—I can’t wait until she travels seven hundred miles to come back home.

By the time she comes back home, I will have found that disposable camera. I promise.