Tuesday, March 19, 2013

The (Highly Beautiful) Fault in our Stars

Last night at 2 am, I was reduced to a blithering, sobbing version of me, just because of some words written by this guy I hadn't heard that much about, about people I hadn't met but knew and understood completely (just marveling at the fact that a book can make me feel as shitty as it did. I'm always surprised by how much books can mean to a person if you give them time and space and love.)

I reached page number 260, curled up in bed with my fairy lights on, almost too aggressively involved in the story but still in control of my heart....and I was crying before I got to the end of the paragraph. It was the sort of sadness that didn't announce itself with a lump in the throat (I find that's a polite introduction to the little crying child you're going to be reduced to). I was reading, gradually getting sadder, and then, BAM, TEARS.

I don't want to tell you anything about this book. I hate it. I hate it so much that I love it like a lunatic, the things it told me and the conversations Hazel and Augustus had, and all I really wanted to do when it ended was just cry into my pillow and want a long, warm hug. That book has taken all my rosy dreams of the future and basically thrown them to the dogs.

It's the feeling when you read something so true that everything else you've known to be true until this moment seems like it was building up right to this point.

I'm so happy I decided to read this book.

John Green, it was a privilege to have my heart broken by you, and this pain demands to be felt.
Thank you.



  1. Seconded. Every single word. This book doesn't deserve to be summarized, it demands to be read. :)

  2. I just had to come back and comment, finished the book just now. I kind of expected the ending to be just like in the book they were reading? Unfinished? In a way it was, which I liked, but I literally expected it to end in the middle of the sentence, that would have been cool. And yes, it sure was a privilege to have my heart broken by John Green, rightly said.