Dear legs,
I am sorry for when I took you for granted. I now realize that I need you so bad. I need you to do things for me, I need you to see things, experience and I need you to live my life to the fullest. Or at least what’s left of it.
Unfortunately I can’t remember how we first met, too young to remember the first steps, but if I could have remembered I would have remembered every single movement. Because it feels so damn good to be able to walk!
Do you remember Rome, Berlin? At least around 20000 steps were taken a day. Or even all those other cities where you never failed me. You could bear high heels and every other mean shoes I put you through. You could run if I wanted you to, you could jump, dance the night away and if Crossfit was a thing at that time I am sure you were even able to keep that up as well.
The time has actually come where I’m stuck in between needing a walking aid (cane, walker or wheelchair) versus in being so vain and make situations unbearable for myself. A.K.A. ‘in denial’, I keep telling myself that I will manage every distance that seems doable in the first place. I am a hard learner and if I do learn from my mistakes trust me in this, I learned the hard way. Some people can relate to this.
The thing is it’s not even your fault. It’s my brain that doesn’t comply with the request to pass signals in order to move. Oh but wait, it’s not my brain’s fault either, it’s my hyper ADHD-ish immunesystem that loves to fuck with every single nerve and damage as much as they can. But wait again, they can’t help but thinking they are doing their best to stop the enemies from making me sick. They are just so confused like a bouncer at a club who is fighting against the bartenders or the clubowners instead of drunken violent people. I hope you understand my metafor.
Dear mister brain, I know you’re smarter than that. I know you can outrun my bloody T2 cells. You are so smart that you can even make new connections I mean who else does that. Be kind to me again, please try.
Legs, I am so scared to fall with you guys as legs. Not to mention I’m almost giving up on many things.
And legs, I’ve got last words for you:
Come back please. I’m missing out too much.
Yours truly,
Victoria (your owner)
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