Dear Mr. Green,
Some weeks ago I finally read my copyof The Fault In Our Stars. I read it because I wanted closure. It might not have been perfect timing, your book made me smile, cry, and think Reading about Amsterdam felt strange to me, the Dutch girl that I am. You described Amsterdam so right, it truly is a magnificent city. The next time I am there I will chase the falling petals and search for Oranjee, crossing canals with cyclists passing by. I can only hope to find my Augustus Waters someday.
I love this book, every word of it. Reading it hurt so bad, not necessarily because it is a sad story, but simply because it is personal and recognisable. Every night the tears were dripping down my cheeks while reading chapters over and over again, until I could read it with only a little stab of sadness. I must have read it at least six times these past weeks.
This letter is not long and I apologise for that. However, the strength of words lies not in their quantity but in their meaning.
John Green, you are my Peter Van Houten, a better one. Thank you.