Dear Augustus,

Today was a good day, my first one in a long time. Today I went to your house. I was going to go to your grave, but when I got into the car, something made me turn left instead of right.

I talked to your parents for a good hour. We talked about you, and they showed me pictures of you when you were little, while sharing stories. You were a very cute little boy. Of course, not as cute as you are now, but still.

It sounds like reliving all those memories may have been sort of sad, but it wasn't. Being with your parents and sharing your stories made me happy. I even laughed at some of their stories about you as a kid. You were just as funny and confident then as you are now.

Your parents seem to be doing okay. They certainly aren't back to normal; I don't think they will ever be able to return to their PA state, but they're coping. We all are.

When I was done talking to your parents, I went to your old room. Augustus, I've been into your room multiple times since your death, but this time was different. As awful as this may sound, the closer I get to my own death, the more content I become with yours. With each passing day I'm closer to joining you in capitol-S Somewhere and that's a strange feeling. I don't want to die. I don't want to hurt my parents like that; I don't want to fulfill my destiny as a grenade. But at the same time, I want (need) to join you again.

And that was what I realized as I roamed through your room. Augustus, I'm ready to join you. I'm not ready to leave, but I'm ready to join you. So as my emotions collide, I feel strangely content. Maybe it's all my drugs. I don't know.

After I roamed around your room, looking at your collection of video games and books, smelling your scent, and steeling a couple of you-scented shirts from your drawers, I came to your bed. My memory of the first time I was ever in your room flashed into my mind. That night I had been tired from standing so much, so I had sat down on your bed while you talked about throwing 80 freethrows I a row the weekend before you had your leg amputated. It was also the night you gave me The Price of Dawn, and I told you about An Imperial Affliction, which eventually led to our trip to Amsterdam. So really, that night started it all.

Just like I did that first night, I sat down on the edge of your bed, which led to me realizing just how tired I was, which led to me just lying down for a second. And then, of course, I realized just how cold I was. Eventually I was curled up in your you-scented bed. I slept, enveloped in your blankets, the first time that I slept soundly for a long time. Lying there, surrounded by the things that were the artifacts of your life, I felt like your dying wasn't okay, per se, but it wasn't a travesty. It's hard to explain. It was like this- you lived a great life, and you had a beautiful infinity. You had an amazing family. And yes, our infinity was cut short, but at least it happened. Okay?

Today, for the first time since you died, I felt like I was swimming through your wake, not floating through it. I was remembering you, not living in your memory. And that was so much better.

So you see, Augustus, today was my day of realizing. Realizing how I want to join you in capitol-S Somewhere, but I'm so afraid to. Realizing that not only was our infinity gorgeous, but it happened. And that's so much better than you dying having never experienced our infinity. But most of all, realizing that coping isn't just surviving; it's learning to live again.

I love you. Thank you for our infinity. Okay,

Hazel Grace