My shoes took me down a crooked path, away from all welcome mats...
I got home last night after being gone for the weekend to find that someone had attempted to break into my house. Initially fear and dread were the emotions that reached me, muffled by a blanket of shock. I don't know when it happened or who did it, if it was someone with designs on my house or a bored vagabond, or if they'll be back. They weren't able to get in, and to my knowledge my neighbors are all okay.
What's surprised me the most is how much it hurt my feelings. I know that sounds silly, like this is some sort of childhood recess fight, teacher she called me names, we're not friends anymore. But I'm serious. There's an overwhelming sense of sadness, and I just can't help but take it personally, even if it wasn't.
I felt the tally of what I try to do adding up in my head, un-summoned. I donate blood every two months to strangers. I buy food for the strangers I see panhandling whenever I can. I have even picked up strangers and driven them to where they needed to go, even some places that weren't on my way. And to be honest, if a stranger showed up on my doorstep and needed something from my house that I was able to give, I would give it to them. So when a stranger, a complete stranger, attempts to break into my home, it feels like I'm being betrayed by someone who, despite the very definition of the word, I know and know well. And dear stranger-friend, whoever you are, you really hurt my feelings.
What's surprised me the most is how much it hurt my feelings. I know that sounds silly, like this is some sort of childhood recess fight, teacher she called me names, we're not friends anymore. But I'm serious. There's an overwhelming sense of sadness, and I just can't help but take it personally, even if it wasn't.
I felt the tally of what I try to do adding up in my head, un-summoned. I donate blood every two months to strangers. I buy food for the strangers I see panhandling whenever I can. I have even picked up strangers and driven them to where they needed to go, even some places that weren't on my way. And to be honest, if a stranger showed up on my doorstep and needed something from my house that I was able to give, I would give it to them. So when a stranger, a complete stranger, attempts to break into my home, it feels like I'm being betrayed by someone who, despite the very definition of the word, I know and know well. And dear stranger-friend, whoever you are, you really hurt my feelings.