My name is Felicity Smoak and I am in a dire situation.

My neurons are developing erratic convulsion stages beyond all science and explanation.

Translation: I am going crazy. And not just because I can't seem to get my mind around what Oliver wants me to do, it's something else. Someone else.

Barry Allen.

Why am I feeling this way? Why can't I concentrate on simple procedures that I could do in my sleep? I know I'm Oliver's right hand person, he's always relied on me to have all the answers.

The truth is...I don't want to live like this anymore. Finding a normal, boring and mundane man could be logical, surely. I just hate that my own happiness is sacrificed because of Oliver's choice. Now every day I live with the regret of getting close with him, working next to him, even baby-sitting him when I just know, deep down he could easily replace me with someone more beautiful, someone who he could actually...feel for. But he doesn't feel that way.

I've gotten so pertinent at concealing my feelings for that man for so long it doesn't get easier. It only gets harder, so hard that I could barely breathe. And to top it off, knowing he won't ever reciprocate makes it worse.

I love someone unconditionally that doesn't and will not love me back. What am I doing this with myself?

I am a brilliant mind, I have things to offer someone, I think. I know I can be more to someone but why don't they ever see that?

Maybe things are meant to be this way...it's too late, Oliver won't look at me the same, not even after tonight. After he kissed me; I just knew he did it out of pity, he felt sorry for me. He wanted to keep me around so he could use my brain and also use me.

I need to be away from Starling City.

I took off my glasses and rubbed the area where the nose bridge imprinted a mark. I don't know where I belong and I don't think anyone cares either way.

I could fly off the face of the Earth, fall hard from a 30 story building, get mugged and severely beat up in the middle of a dark alley and no one would notice. Do people ever notice anything I do? Is being smart all I am good for? Oliver seems to think so anyway.

And Barry...?

I'm not getting the same reading for that guy. Barry is, well, he's not Oliver that's for sure. He's inquisitive, gives direct eye contact, speaks to you while using your name before he responds back. Barry is not like every guy out there. And I think that's what is really the problem here.

I am afraid he may be the last man like that. After the particle accelerator explosion I found out Barry and many others were effected by the event, causing them to be in a coma or worse, die. Barry is gone. The man I knew and remembered as the only man who really saw and heard me has ceased to exist. Which led me to believe if he really happened.

Why am I even fretting about this? I am constantly being used in my position, taken advantage of, my life is over thanks to a vigilante whose calling is stronger than his heart. I feel like my life has no purpose. Did it ever have one?

Oliver should have never saved my life. I should have never met him or agreed to join his cult. I am realizing now how futile my choices were. I had a choice all along. Being alone and in my mind, my sanctuary, my life belonged to me. I didn't need to feel like a lackey, a second string to people who probably have no real need for me.

I am more than just science and the impossible. I am more than my brain.

Good luck convincing anyone otherwise. I haphazardly thought about the consequences of staying this way. What it could do to me. What it already has done to me.

I stood up from the office, hesitating before walking to the stairs that led up to the roof top. I knew no one was there because Oliver had left and the team all went home early when they heard my default answer of "oh I got this, no worries." I really need to stop saying that to people; just because I can do it, doesn't mean I really want to.

Somehow most of the problems I felt over the past couple of years began to melt away the higher up I went. When I reached the roof I opened the door, doing a silent prayer that nobody would be taking a load off on the roof.

The wind tunnel was so strong when I began to shut the door behind me that I put extra pressure to close it. After I secured it I turned around as the wind caught my hair, pushing it around my face in a mini hurricane.

I rarely come here anymore and sometimes I did just to get away from the numbers, chemicals, homicides and the self-injected danger I'm involved in.

My mind went to Barry as I walked closely to the edge of the roof. I wondered if he was just sleeping or dying extremely slowly. As much as I am familiar with human anatomy and the biological findings, sometimes some things in life don't make sense. Like death. I can't understand miracles and I don't believe they happen at all.

Barry Allen is gone. I have to keep saying that to remind myself of it. I'll never talk to him again, I'll never look into his eyes and see myself. I'll never know what it feels like for someone else to really look at me. Not the way he did, it will never be like that. I'll never know what it feels like to have mutual feelings with a man. I am not Laurel.

But Barry, he would have been different. I felt like he wouldn't be like the rest and now I'll never get to know if I was right.

It was just too sad when I found out he was laying in a coma, marching toward death. Don't remember how many times I tried to make it to his hospital room just to see him but then backed out when I saw some girl there; almost like she was a family member staying there after visiting hours. I never got my chance to see him because I wasn't his family. I wasn't anything to him, even though I was sure he felt it too. The moment when he said goodbye, before he left to Central City...I didn't want him to leave. He only just got here. I felt like he came into my life and walked away because he wanted to.

Who am I kidding? We live on different sides and far distances. Why would Barry Allen just magically wake up and the first thought he had was to see me?

I'm just fooling myself...this was the way it was going to be. And it hurts so much to begin to accept it.

I walked further to edge, knowing it was dangerous but I didn't care. I stood on the edge of the building, overlooking the city, knowing this will always be more important than me. Oliver knew it all too well and I don't blame him anymore. The truth is: my life is hardly valued, I don't believe anyone knows I'm in front of them sometimes.

I looked down and almost fell over from losing my balance. I gripped both sides of stoney edge as my brain caught up with what just happened.

Would it be painful if I fell fast? Would it be over if I fell at all?

Only one way to find out...

I let go out the edge and felt my shoulder being caught by a strong hand.

"Felicity!" Barry Allen glared at me with large, green eyes. "What are you doing?"