My Dearest Augustus Waters,
Today, you would have been eighteen years old. You would have been legally able to purchase a pack of cigarettes and legally not smoke would have had a party, with a big blue cake make terribly by yours truly. Isaac and I with our parents would have been there. How much do you want to bet that your parents would have presented you with new Encouragements?
Gosh, I can't believe I miss you this much. I miss your smoky, sexy voice, your waterblue eyes, your long, lean muscles pressing against me as we'd cuddle. I miss your touch, your distinct scent, your mahogany hair, your soft kisses, the way you said my name: "Hazel Grace."
I was with your parents at your house today, all day. So were Isaac and his mom. My parents stayed for a few minutes, but left due to the overwhelming awkwardness as we all stood there, looking at each other, knowing that we were gathered together for someone that was dead. But I didn't care. You're still alive, Augustus. You're still alive, because you're with me every day.
Do you know those times when you want something very horribly, but you know that you'll never have it, so you kind of give up on it after a while? Well, I had that issue when I was fifteen. I was still convinced that I was going to die. And I wanted a fancy-schmancy professional photography camera. A Nikon DSLR 3100, to be exact. (Isn't it pathetic that I can remember the name of the stupid thing? It's as if I were emotionally attached to it.) The thing is, I figured, if I was about to die, and since death is so heinous, I'd take pictures of all the beautiful things I came across (what's another thing to lug around?). I wanted this thing so desperately, Augustus. But I eventually gathered that I'd never get the stupid thing. So I gave up on wishing for it.
You'll never be my Nikon, Augustus. I'll never stop wanting you. I wish I could relive our being together every day of my life. I'll never give up on you. I was, and still am very deeply in love with you. I swear to you that I'll never forget that kiss we shared in the Anne Frank house, with all of those people crowded around us, watching us, clapping as we broke apart. I'll never forget discussing books with you, or when you urged Isaac to break the basketball trophies, or watching 2000's Natalie Portman movies with you, wrapped in your strong arms. I'll also never forget, Augustus Waters, how you told me that you were in love with me while we were on that plane to Amsterdam and my mom was asleep and we'd just watched 300 and our knees were touching. You looked so healthy, flawless then.
I wish that the first birthday of yours I had the privilege to witness involved you physically being here, being with me, unwrapping Encouragements from your parents and videogames from Isaac and books from me. You'd suffer and eat my horrible cake then tell me how horrible it was, and that you loved it. I made it blue, because of your beautiful eyes. After the gifts and cake and small talk, after everyone left, you and I would go downstairs to your mess of a bedroom and curl up in bed and listen to Hectic Glow, wrapped safely in one another's arms.
By the way, I'm "borrowing" some of your shirts. I hope you don't mind. I love you.
Happy birthday, Augustus.
Okay,
Hazel Grace