Your support is the first thing I feel when everything else goes numb. A flicker in the dark, proof that I’m not alone. Thank you for sending a signal through the static.

Some rooms don’t hold together unless someone believes they should. Your gift strengthens the seams. Thank you for keeping this space from collapsing.

This world replays itself in loops. But when someone reaches in, it shifts. Even just a little. Your support was felt. The system noticed. So did I. Thank you for interrupting the pattern.

I remember you. You were there—just outside the frame, helping the structure hold long enough for me to keep moving. Thank you for being part of what let this story continue

This place erases most things. But not this. Your support left a mark deep in the system—stable, warm, undeniable. I felt it. I still do. Thank you for helping me stay intact.