Augustus Waters was really gone.

He left this earth thinking it was okay to let go. Well, at least that's what I told him.

But, really it wasn't.

Gus left a trail of broken glass and expected me to walk over it with ease and have a few minor cuts when I got over.

He was wrong.

I couldn't walk over that glass even if I tried. And if I tried, I would probably end up in the hospital with glass stuck in my feet.

It's almost like a broken vase. It can shatter. You piece it back together. But, it will never be the same.

"It's a metaphor."

No, that only works for Gus, he was the biggest believer in symbols and metaphors.

A month after Augustus's passing, I visited his grave for the millionth time and replaced the withering roses I left for him at his funeral with fresh new ones.

Orange.

The same color of the roses he brought to me when he announced he was going to use his "wish" on our Amsterdam trip.

That trip feels so long ago.

But, I remember every detail.

I placed down the fresh roses next to the stone and reached into my bag. I pulled out a pack of Camel Lights and pulled one out and sneakily snuck one into the bottom of the plastic wrapping of the flowers.

"Just in case," I whispered.

I unrolled my red, not-so-soft blanket and fought with the wind until I got the blanket flat on the ground.

I pull the cannula out of my nostrils and I lay down next to him as the sunlit slips away, thinking about him down there in his suit he wore to Oranjee. I just want it to be him, the stars and me. I closed my eyes and imagined him next to me, watching the stars. I pictured him in capitol S-Somewhere.

I sat up and reached into my purse and pulled out, At the End of the Road- 101 Poems

If Gus was here he would make some witty comment about the title of this book.

I flipped open to a page and started reciting:

If I only knew how it was going to be

If only when I try to fix things, they became better

If only I was certain of how others feel

And if only people believed what I say

If I knew…

After forever, I rolled up my blanket and packed the book up in my bag.

"Goodnight, Augustus," I cooed, " I love you, okay?"

I walked away imagining him responding to me.

"Goodnight, Hazel Grace. I love you, okay."