It’s a person.
It has to be a person. I’m still. Heart pounding. Trying not to move so I can make out any other sounds that followed the large THUD toward the front of the house. It’s hard to hear– the a/c unit is loud, the television is louder to compensate, and I’ve started hearing a ringing in my ears in the last year or so- which makes my irrational fear worse without being able to hear precisely whatever the fuck has just dropped into or near my bedroom.
Years of double and triple checking the door before I go to bed, from as early as I can remember. Bolting up in the middle of the night, confident that there’s a human sneaking around looking for something valuable (and then of course, in this nightmare/fantasy, they find nothing of value, get angry, and begin harming my household).
A PERSON. At least that’s what it sounded like. The noise was big, that was certain. J immediately ran to the record room, where he believed the sound originated (his records are easily the most valuable thing in the house and he went to check on them).
I point him to the hallway, confidently. By the front door, or our bedroom.
He walks, quietly (and likely just as scared as a person could be, dating me and having to wake up almost every night to me convinced there’s an intruder) towards the bedroom. Turns the corner. And then I hear mumbling.
“It’s our closet. The rod broke”
I feel the usual feelings, a mixture of guilt and relief. Once I feel those things, I then have the emotional capacity to feel annoyed for having a broken closet. It’s the only closet in this apartment, so it was kind of a big deal. And kind of overloaded. It was just a matter of time.
I should probably mention that i’ve never been robbed. Nor do I want to be robbed/burgled. Nothing shady like that has ever happened to me. Yet. Sometimes I wonder: will having my home violated chill me out? Are there studies on this? Does your entire body relax in some way? Heave a sigh of relief once the thing you’ve been dreading finally happens?