Tomorrow should be a day of celebration for you and I. Me taking on the Reaper hoard with gusto in a last-ditch effort to save humanity, and you telling me I have new emails as I plot the Normandy's flight path to some dangerous star system. It should be a day we face together, side by side. Unfortunately, things didn't turn out that way, did they? I'll still be fighting the good fight, of course: gathering squadmates, upgrading my weapons, fine-tuning my biotic abilities. But you … you won't be with me. Look, I'm sorry, okay? But how was I to know that cleaning up those last few side missions before entering the Omega 4 relay was going to cost you your life? I was just doing what every damn RPG in forever has taught me I should do! It was BioWare's fault for tricking me!
Except we both know it wasn't. It was my fault. And no matter how many geth troopers I blast a hole through, it's never enough to ease the pain of you not being here. I miss you, Kelly. Who knows how things could have turned out had different decisions been made, had I acted sooner. But I suppose what's past is past. I'll be thinking about you tomorrow … and always.
Love,
Bob's Commander Shepard
