Cut to the quick.

Someone broke into my home. They stole my computer and my camera.

My computer's name, incidentally, was My Boyfriend.

I came home from work last night to find that the screen had been pulled away from my front window, the one next to the door. I was distressed to find that someone was most likely planning to rob my house, although as the window was closed and didn't appear to open easily I didn't believe it had happened yet. I know that the lock on my doorknob was locked when I got home; I checked that. The deadbolt, I am uncertain, although I believe it was also locked. I walked inside, not believing anything was amiss. I then noticed that the door to my basement was open. I keep it closed. I turned to that front window, and found the things that had been there on the window sill pushed to the floor. I stood there for a minute, baffled by the idea of it: someone could be in my house. Right then, some fuck could be in my house. I collected myself and turned and left, locking my door behind me. I called my mother, who reminded me that I might do better to call the police. I waited for them outside. When they arrived it was determined that no, no one was in the house. My computer and camera, however, were gone. They hadn't even made a mess. They didn't spend much time there. There were holiday cards with money still in them lying on the table untouched. They stole in and took only the things that mattered.

One of the two police to arrive first insulted my things, and believed that it was impossible for anyone to have broken into the house if the window was now closed. I explained to him what had clearly happened, feeling like Sherlock Holmes talking to a mentally handicapped chipmunk. The other quickly discovered that the window had been shoved off of its track and no longer locks at all. She was in the room with me when I realised that the computer was gone, and then when I realised all that had been lost with it. She immediately became more sympathetic than she had been already. She was kind, and patient, and intelligent, and I thank her for it. Then, because my uncle is a police Sargent and I called him while I waited outside for the first of the police to arrive, two more cars and the Sargent of that district popped in to be sure that I was safe. Ha. The Sargent also agreed that I was correct in my description of what must have happened. The first officer heard it but didn't seem particularly humbled.

Approximately half of the photographs from the trip had not been uploaded to Flickr yet. Pictures of France, Italy, Germany, Iceland, and my favourite picture of my partner are lost to me. My external hard drive had broken, so I'd not been able to back up my files. I lost my personal journals from my travels, records of dreams, things I'd written and not posted yet. And in taking my computer they took letters between my lover and I, all things I would not have given up lightly.

I'm furious and sad. I'm staying at my mother's house until the locks are changed and the window fixed.