Before I jump into my brokenheartedness, I will give you some background information about this situation: My home was broken into. The place where I feel safe and sleep in. The place where I have enjoyed many glasses of wine and late night chats with my best friends. My house  had been left for a long weekend. There was money, checks, a flat screen tv, an apple tv, laptops, tablets just laying out in the comfort of our home. It was all there when I returned. These “valuables” were not touched. In fact you didn’t touch a lot. You didn’t leave mud or any finger prints.  It was almost like you didn’t want me to know you were there. I wouldn’t have even noticed so quickly if you hadn’t messed up the blinds in the window you went through on your way out. What was missing from my home was sickening and horrifying. Underwear was gone. Closets were tore through. Pictures on the walls were missing. Framed pictures of memories were taken. Innocence and sense of safety were completely shattered.
Dear Invader,
I don’t know who you are. I don’t if this was your first time in my home. I don’t know if I have met you. I don’t know your gender. I don’t know anything about you. I don’t know what possessed you to do this. I don’t know how you know me. I don’t know if you randomly did this to me or if you have been watching me. I don’t know if I have ever passed you on the streets. I don’t know how long you had this planned. I don’t know if you thought this was funny. I don’t know why you did this to me.
While I am left with so many unanswered questions and wonderings, you know so much about me.
You know exactly who I am.You know the color of my hair. You have seen the people I love the most. You have seen my safe haven and where I sleep. You know how many pillows I have. You know what my view is outside of my window. You know my address. You know where I live. You know the color of my sheets. You know where my panty drawer is, because you took them. You know my bra size. You know about my memories, because you saw all of my pictures. You know the kind of shampoo I use. You know what kind of milk I drink. You have seen my home.
I can’t process why you would do this to me. You have no idea how this has impacted me. Maybe you see me on campus now. Can you see the fear in my face? Do you see how I walk with anxiety in every step? If you wanted to scare me it worked. I am now distrusting and uneasy with all I do. I was happy, joyful, safe and innocent before you came into my life and took over.
I don’t think you can begin to understand how bruised you left me. Obviously you didn’t lay a hand on me. But if felt like you punched me and hurt my entire body.
Sincerely,
Your Innocent Victim
P.S. You left the toilet seat up on your way out.
Â
Â
I hope and hope this experience is very foreign to you. I hope that you have never experienced something like this. Unfortunately, this may be similar to something that has happened to you. With that we share something. We share a sense of taken advantage of and outrage. If you are any type of victim I urge you to talk to someone, anyone. Use counseling/coping resources to help you.