Dear Augustus by asesina

a/n: I don't own the Fault in Our Stars! This is just a little introspective letter from Hazel to Gus. Set after the movie.

Enjoy!

*~*=0=*~*

They say that life is a series of moments. Maybe they're connected, maybe they aren't.

In the end, does it really matter? We're born and then we die, and things happen in the middle, but these things define us. I don't want to make sense of all of this. I don't want an answer from the universe or God or whatever's beyond the sky.

I wish that I could see you again, but that wouldn't make sense. You died when you had to die. As cliché as it sounds, it was your time, and nothing could've prolonged that.

You held on as long as you could, and I'll never forget that. I don't know if I'll be here in 50 years or 5 years or 5 weeks, but I'll never forget you.

We all have people in our lives who will cherish us long after we're gone, but what happens when they die? Someday, we'll all be forgotten, right?

Some people have avoided the oblivion. Princess Diana, Michael Jackson, Kurt Cobain… They're all scattered on the wind now, bodiless and formless, but I'm still here.

I'm going to live for as long as I can, but I won't ignore my impending doom. It's a part of me as much as you are, Augustus.

I can feel it gnawing at my happiness and threatening my dreams, but I can chase it away now. It was a privilege to know and love you too, and that's all that matters.

We were here, and we cried and bled into this earth. It's always changing, though. Last year's grass is this year's compost, and last year's fashions are this year's laughing stocks.

I guess that being in a constant state of dying has made me a lot more introspective than I would've been otherwise , but I wouldn't have it any other way.

I used to look at all the young couples in Starbucks, all these impossibly happy people, and I wondered what it would be like to have a carefree life like that.

Now I know better, Gus. You helped me see that.

This is my life, and I shouldn't waste it wanting to be someone else.

I'm Hazel Grace Lancaster, and I'm slowly dying of cancer. This is my life and no one else's. I'm not going to blame fate or destiny.

Acceptance is the final stage of grief, and it hurts like hell. Everything still hurts, but in a way, it reminds me that I'm alive. Pain needs to be felt, right?

I don't want to keep writing because I could do this forever, I swear. I know that you were never fond of sappiness, but I know that you are a softie at heart. Admit it, Augustus Waters.

I'll carry you with me until I can't carry anything anymore. When my lungs finally stop working, I might pause for a moment, but I'll never lose that part of me, and you'll live on. You'll live on.

And then, well… who knows what comes next?

Oblivion or not, I'll be ready.

Thanks for helping me along the way.

Love,

Hazel Grace