I had it for years. I’ve fallen off it hard and gotten right back up and kept going. I spent the last five months getting serious about tracking my trips. I was seeing more and more of my city. I had a way to get around that didn’t require gasoline, but balance and effort and sweat. I actually started losing weight and gaining strength. But you took it off my second-floor apartment’s porch in seconds. It was mine. It didn’t belong to you. You’ve made me feel safe where I live and less trusting of my neighbors. I hope somebody finds my bike and brings it back to me. I’m going to stop writing now before I actually say what I hope happens to you.