My name is Hazel Grace Lancaster. And I believe we have a choice in this world, about how to tell sad stories. On the one hand, you can sugarcoat it – the way they do in movies and romance novels. Where villains are vanquished and heroes are born and beautiful people learn beautiful lessons. Where nothing is too messed up that can’t be fixed with a Peter Gabriel song. I like that version just as much as the next girl does. It’s just not the truth.

I go to Support Group every week to appease my mother, where we’ll all sit in the literal Heart Of Jesus and Patrick will tell us the riveting tale of his ballessness. Then we’ll go around the circle and each of us will say our name, age, condition and how we’re feeling today. “Hi, I’m Hazel. 16.” I would say, once they had reached me. “Thyroid originally but with quite the impressive satellite colony in my lungs. And I’m doing okay.”

This was my monotonous, everyday schedule. Until a gorgeous, one-legged, metaphor-loving plot twist named Augustus Waters changed all of that.

I introduced Augustus to the Pain Of Reading An Imperial Affliction. You see, this books ends in the middle of a sentence. It’s unfair to the reader, but it is reality. You die in the middle of your life, in the middle of a sentence. But I’d still like to know what happened to the people around her. 

An Imperial Affliction is a fortunate book. It just has an unfortunate author.

I know that I'm terminal. But the only thing worse than biting it from cancer, is having a kid who bites it from cancer. So I am strong for all my loved ones. And Augustus, you gave me an infinity within the numbered days, and I can't tell you how thankful I am for a little bit of infinity. 

~ @AugustusxWaters , my love. I love you present tense.

~ @Its-Isaac You will always be my friend.