Dear John Green,

As an angsty teenager, it is often a struggle to find anyone or anything to relate to, even your closest friends or family. As a boy in today's society, I found it difficult to express my feelings and even harder to do so with my other guy friends. I would daydream of romantic gestures and long-winded speeches about love and sacrifice, but the girls just weren't coming my way. Thus, I escaped into books. More specifically, I entered the only place where I felt understood: a John Green novel.

I would not be writing this article today if it weren't for John Green. As a child, I was an obsessive reader, having read every available "Magic Tree House" book by the time I turned eight. Slowly, though, my propensity for reading began to fade, and I focused my attention on movies and TV, which never seemed to fill the void that a good book could. I tried and tried to get back into reading, with every book finding its way back to the shelf without being read past page 80.

One day, I made my way to Barnes and Noble and took a look at the bestsellers rack. I know what you're thinking: A John Green book caught my eye, I read the first few pages and I was immediately immersed, moving from book to book in only a few days. Nope. I picked up "The Fault in Our Stars" and sat down to read the book's premise. Unfortunately, the gender roles placed in me by society grabbed hold of my thoughts, and I put the book back down with my only thought being, "seems girly."

However, the book would not leave the bestsellers rack, and the people around me would not stop talking about it, so I figured I had to give it a shot. I had no idea what I was in for. Each book I read felt more and more relatable, as Green accurately portrayed the awkward teenage years and the place between depression and happiness that only teenage hormones can take you. For the first time in my teenage life, I felt understood.

I would even venture to claim that Miles Halter and Colin Singleton were two of the most influential people in my life so far. Miles Halter's undying affection for Alaska Young reminded me more of my own feelings that I eventually felt like I was the one who loved her. Spoilers aside, Miles Halter taught me that I am not alone in my quest for true love and a "great perhaps," and at that time, I had never related to a character like I did to him.

Then came Colin Singleton, and the weight of expectations that constantly hovered over my shoulders was transferred to his. For once, there was someone with more potential and with more expectations, and I suddenly realized it could be worse. I could have a 200 IQ and no idea what to do with it. Colin taught me how to live with these expectations and to let life come to me. Suddenly, it was OK that I wasn't sure what to do with my straight-A report card. To this day, I still struggle to find a passion, and I constantly read about Colin's struggle to keep me grounded and to allow myself to see the bigger picture.

So, thank you, John Green, you nerd-fighter and demigod of teenage literature. You reminded me, as well as many other teenagers, when we needed it most, we are, in fact, understood and we can make it out of this endless pit of hormones and chaos that is young adulthood. Thank you for reminding me of the beauty of a good book. Most of all, thank you for creating Miles Halter and Colin Singleton, without whom I never would have felt normal. You are truly my role model, and if I can influence one young person's life in the same way you have influenced thousands, I will feel as though I have lived a complete life. As for my answer to the common question: If you could have lunch with anyone, alive or dead, who would it be? You, by a landslide, John Green, as long as you bring along Colin and Miles.

Sincerely,

Sean Buxton