I came late to the John Green party. His best-selling novel, "The Fault in Our Stars," came out in January of 2012. By then, Green had already gained a following from his previous novels and his YouTube channel with his brother Hank, but I was oblivious to it.

I don’t remember what finally caused me to read "The Fault in Our Stars." Maybe it was months of my friends egging me on. Maybe it was that I didn’t have much to read and it looked promising. I checked it out of the library, and after that, I felt that my life had been changed.

The story of Gus and Hazel, the two teenagers doomed to terminal cancer on whom the novel focuses, was funny, tragic, and real. As I was already an avid reader of many books in the Young Adult section of my hometown library, I had already grown accustomed to the ways in which authors wrote for adolescent audiences, even if I wasn’t quite aware of it at the time. "The Fault in Our Stars" felt different than most other Young Adult books I’d read. It might have felt different because of my longing to feel what Hazel and Gus felt for each other, but looking back, I don’t think that's what it was.

"The Fault in Our Stars" felt different because in addition to being heart-wrenching and hilarious, it was also real. The teenagers in between its sky-blue covers could have jumped out of the pages and into my living room, and they would’ve fit right in with my friends. But at the same time, they were dealing with painful and grown-up experiences, again like me and many of my friends. Traumatic experiences and brushes with death don’t necessarily wait until you’re "old enough," despite what I had internalized from the world around me. "The Fault in Our Stars" gave me permission to struggle with wanting to stay as a child at the same time as wanting to hurry and grow up.

I went on and read the rest of John Green’s novels. "Looking for Alaska," "Paper Towns," and "Will Grayson, Will Grayson" (which Green co-wrote with David Leviathan). I watched the Vlogbrothers videos religiously, and began to identify as a Nerdfighter. I loved John and Hank’s enthusiastic devotion to their mostly teen fans, how they treated us not quite like adults, but not quite kids either.

Time passed, and eventually, I stopped obsessing. I stopped recommending "The Fault in Our Stars" to everyone with whom I talked, and I stopped trying to imitate Green’s style in my own writing. I watched the movie when it came to theaters, and I cried when Gus died, more than I had cried when I initially read the novel. When "Paper Towns" came to theaters, I watched it too, even though my obsession had mostly calmed down by then. But I still felt devoted to Green’s work.

In late June of this year, the news went public that John Green’s new novel would be published in October, and I freaked out. I texted my close friends, and we freaked out together. It somehow felt right to me that the new novel, "Turtles All The Way Down," would focus on an adolescent girl's struggle with mental illness. Since I'd first encountered "The Fault in Our Stars," I had come to deal with my own mental illnesses in a visceral way. It felt fitting that the author whose work influenced me so greatly when I was first learning to think for myself would finally be publishing a book with which I could more directly relate.

I was on the phone with my mother, and I told her that our good friend John was publishing a new book.

"Don’t be disappointed," she said.

I was confused, but only for a second.

"Because I’m older?" I responded.

"Exactly," she said. "It won’t be the same."

And once my mom said that, I was able to take a deep breath. I knew she was right. Although I knew I would still rush to read "Turtles All The Way Down," and I would wait for its publishing date with growing anticipation, I also knew that I wasn’t really part of its target audience anymore. That isn’t to say that adults can’t read Young Adult novels, in fact, I believe they should. It’s to say that I’m not a teenager anymore, and while I still don’t know a lot of things, I’m way more comfortable in that uncertainty than I used to be. I don’t need John Green’s words the same way I did when I was fifteen and sixteen.

I think my mom was also trying to tell me that I can’t go home again. I can’t recreate the experience I had when I read "The Fault in Our Stars" for the first time. "Turtles All The Way Down" will be a different book. It will be a great book. But it won’t be the same.

And that’s okay. Because I’m not the same person I was when I read "The Fault in Our Stars" for the first time, either.

All I can say at this point is that October 10th can’t come fast enough.

Thanks, John.