V.

Dear Stranger,

Or should I say Oliver? At this point I think it'd be weird for me to start these letters with anything other than "Stranger". It's kind of a thing by this point. Not that it's our thing of course. We've met once for all of like… ten minutes. It's really not possible to have an "our thing" this early in the stage. First and foremost I have to start by sincerely apologizing (once more) for getting ink all over your shoes. They looked nice. Nicer than nice really. They're probably what nice dreams of being when it grows up. I must also apologize for sounding like a complete weirdo in this letter, though now that I think about it I probably sound no weirder in this one than in any of the previous ones. So really… should I be apologizing? I think maybe yes. I'll just apologize for being a weirdo in general. Be warned though, this apology is all encompassing, including future moments of weirdness.

… don't judge me.

It was nice talking to you. Of course now that it happened I realized just how far off and yet kind of accurate I was about our first real "official" meeting. We did kind of talk about completely random things - I will always unapologetically respond to sending random letters to a random inmate with "eww" - just not the kind of random things I thought we would be. Maybe I should be grateful. I did after all get through our entire conversation without sticking my foot in my mouth, or rambling at you. An accomplishment that's going down in the record books I might add. I don't think that's ever happened to me before.

You sir, are officially my lucky charm.

But enough about that. I might not ramble at you in real life, but apparently that doesn't apply to these letters. How that works, I don't really understand. No, don't ask me! Really, it probably baffles me even more than it does you. I promised in the last letter that I would begin talking to you about things of true importance, because that's really what this whole thing was about to begin with.

I'm not sure if you've ever heard of the name Gerard Smoak. If you haven't, that's completely okay. To me he was always just Gerry. Why my mom and dad decided to name my brother that, I don't really know. Gerard always just seemed so sophisticated, a name for a serious man with a serious appearance. Gerry suited him more. That name seems more prone to fun for me, it's easier to say the name Gerry with fondness than Gerard I think. He was older than me by about a year, and so ridiculously smart. He always had a particular talent for physical sciences. Chemistry and physics were his thing. Gerry was going to revolutionize the world with his inventions, and I think he would have. The ones and zeroes of computers have always been my friends, but for him it chemicals and the laws of physics.

I am aware that things happen for a reason. I am aware that a lot of the time things happen and it's easy to get angry. I can't tell you the amount of times I've wanted to scream and rage at everything around me because it's not fair. None of it is fair. I can't tell you the amount of times I have actually done it, when the anger about what happened gets to me and the only outlet I have is grabbing the thing nearest to me and smashing it to the floor. It's not the healthiest outlet, but at least this way no one but me gets hurt, even though getting glass stuck in my foot from when the crystal dish exploded at my feet wasn't the result I was hoping to get. I definitely learned my lesson about throwing easily breakable and sharp things.

But the truth of the matter is that there's nothing I - or anyone really - could have done to stop what happened. Gerry was going to work on that damned particle accelerator with everyone from Star Labs no matter what anyone told him. I guess that's the thing about loving your work. No matter what anyone else tells you, no matter how loud the protestors standing outside of your lab facilities scream that you're playing God, you love your work and you're going to continue it.

I was so very proud of him. I looked at his work and I saw advancement being made for mankind. I saw Gerry living out his dream and taking the world by storm like he always said he would.

But sometimes the storms you help make are too great. Sometimes, your dreams are accomplished, but they don't work out the way you want them to.

Be careful with your dreams Oliver. Some dreams are just too big.

-Felicity

A/N: I'm sure my dear friend latbfan will recognize a certain line in this letter. It was kind of my little tip of the hat towards her for being such an amazing person and encouraging me in my writing with her wonderful reviews. If you haven't yet "How Was Your Day?" you are indeed missing out on a beautifully written fic.

I must scream a huge and absolutely loud "THANK YOU!" to everyone who took the time to review and have been absolutely amazing and patient with me with this fic. I'm not too used to the first person/present tense narrative, and it's been a blast experimenting with this medium. You're guys reviews are incredibly welcomed and loved. Please leave a review, I'd love to hear what you guys think so far.