Link to article: fragment:9000contestonlineopossum-2.
:scp-wiki:component:anomaly-class-bar-source
[[include :scp-wiki:component:anomaly-class-bar-source |item-number= 9110 |clearance= NULL |container-class= NULL |secondary-class= none |secondary-icon= http://urlhere.com |disruption-class= NULL |risk-class= NULL ]] @@ @@ +++ Special Containment Procedures: Irrelevant. @@ @@ +++ Description: SCP-9110 doesn't matter. Whether it was the disappearance, the device, both, neither, it's not important. The case is closed, and the UIU has the files in case it ever becomes relevant again. What's important is David Thompson, the best person I’ve ever had the privilege of meeting, and the love of my life. He was reduced to a footnote in an archived case file, depicting him during his darkest moments. I don't want his life to be remembered only by how it ended. There wasn't anything in the file about how he played guitar, and how he could figure out how to play any song just by listening to it. It didn't tell us how he folded his memos into paper cranes during long meetings. There was no addendum for how his eyes crinkled up when he smiled, how he called his parents twice a week so they wouldn't worry about him, what his favorite color was[[footnote]]Yellow.[[/footnote]]. It included none of the million little things that made him who he was. I hope the people who were lucky enough to know him never forget these things. He was quiet, but he was so funny in his own deadpan way. He was incredibly smart, even though he would deny it whenever you told him. He was brave. He was always kind, always worried about other people, even at the very end. I struggled with the fact that he didn’t tell me, didn’t leave a note. Did he not love me? Did he just not care? But I think he knew me too well, knew how I would pick apart everything he did and said and everything that I didn’t, and I would tear myself apart trying to figure out how I missed all the clues. I suppose he thought it would be easier on me if I could turn that impulse outward, scrape through the noise and random data of the world and construct an answer that would let me blame anyone but myself. I want him to know that I would have always blamed myself, no matter what. I know you wouldn’t want that, but it’s true. But you went to so much effort to try and stop that from happening, that if I don’t accept that you’re gone and I couldn’t stop it, then I'll feel like I’ve let you down anyway. So I'll try. I hope I’ll see you again one day. Thank you for trying to protect me from myself. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. Thank you for everything, David. I love you, and I always will. @@ @@ > **THIS PAGE HAS BEEN EDIT LOCKED BY ALEXANDER LIU** @@ @@