I blinked back the inevitable tears. I do, Augustus. I do. It's true. It always has been. Ever since the fateful day he did the impossible and turned me on, I was enchanted by his determination to keep his coaster going up. His inability to see that his coaster was doomed to crash and burn. His metaphor. All of it. And our whole, beautiful, infinity that was too short was contained in the letter. The eulogy, rather, that he had asked Van-Houten to write. Despite the bleak prognosis he was facing, in typical Augustus Waters fashion, he was more concerned about me. He didn't honestly believe he'd outlast me, but he needed to leave his mark.