I took the risk one night though. Almost exactly three years ago, I took the risk.

I never intended to do it that night when I woke up that morning, or even in the weeks before. As we both know, you weren't available in that way. But as we also both know now, no level of planning matters when something is destined. I had wanted to tell you how I felt about you the night the Particle Accelerator launched, and I ended up in a coma for nine months instead. So no amount of preparation, no sense of readiness will change what's meant to be. And that night, I was meant to visit my dad in Iron Heights, and I was meant to hear that it was time to stop tiptoeing through life, to stop letting my tragedies determine my trajectories.

I was meant to be told that it was time to do what I feared most, knowing it could culminate in either the worst or the best thing to happen to me.

I remember thinking maybe the timing was better than I thought, despite the lack of foresight. It certainly seemed a little special and noteworthy. It was Christmas, your favorite time of year. We had just exchanged gifts the day before, and it was probably my personal favorite one that I'd ever given you in my time knowing you.

But then the reminder that you had made a decision to move forward with someone else crept over me, and I felt terrible, like my timing couldn't be any worse, and that it didn't matter how poetic anything seemed, because it wouldn't change the fact that I was too late. I thought of what kind of position I would be putting you in. I thought of how much pain I might be causing you. I felt selfish, and if there was one thing I knew I never wanted to do as long as I was living, it was to put myself before you. And wasn't I doing that with all of this? And how could I potentially commence our relationship and my promise to love you with a situation where you weren't the priority?

My dad's words still rang loud and clear in my ears though, and I remembered the Man in Yellow again, and I told myself if I didn't at least tell you, I would be handing him one more victory.

And then I replayed the night of the Particle Accelerator explosion again, and how I was going to walk you home afterward and tell you, tell you that the newly-launched energy beams of all the atoms surrounding us were nothing compared to what I feel for you, let you know that your smile is beyond anything Harrison Wells or the minds at STAR Labs could explain, show you how fast my heart beats when I'm with you.