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A Love Letter to My Wheelchair

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We met four years ago. At first, I hired you for six weeks, then another six weeks. I was in denial; I thought you were temporary.

Finally, I resigned and bought a cheaply made version of you, still not fully invested in the idea of having to use a chair.

The first time we went out together, I was in awe. After months of being unable to get out of bed, I was taken out to feel the fresh air on my cheeks, hear the birdsong and be among people.

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