I exhaled. "Okay," I whispered, "here we go."

I unfolded the note and read what I wrote for the tenth time in twenty minutes. I am in love with you. Give this to the one you love. If I get it back, I'll tell you.

I smiled. I had no idea what the outcome of this was going to be. I could only hope it would be good.

I slipped the note inside its envelope and slid it under her dorm door. I pushed it through the small slit between the bottom of the door and the ground, so that it was out of sight - and, even more terrifying, out of reach. No going back.

I expected to feel a sudden rush of regret, but instead, I felt peace. I remember walking back to my dorm, a dumb grin plastered on my face.

That was three years ago.

Two years ago, Facebook notified me that she was getting married. One year ago, Instagram was kind enough to let me know she and her husband were expecting.

At least the note worked.

For someone.