The real price

Last night, I was violated. Myself and my girlfriend. We work hard every day to build ourselves a home, and when we are done for the day, what time we have, we spend enjoying our spoils.

Awaken in the midst of the night, by some lowlife human weighing up the pros and cons of our personal possessions as he decided which item he would prefer. presumably to sell at a reduces price, to fund some life ruining habit. The contents of my shed was sprawled out across my lawn, like the beginnings of yard sale.

But what is the cost? Truth be told, there isn't much value kept in my shed. A couple of garden tools and a few pots of paint. Had this thug not had been interrupted by my attempted heroics of wielding a Dunlop putter, he might have got away with a lawnmower. A lawnmower which was second hand, and in a less than working state. In fact, had he had half a brain, he might have noticed the new lawnmower, the slightly smaller but overall lighter lawnmower sitting comfortably on the very thing he decided to 'attempted' to steal. So what would the cost be? For that particular item? Nothing. I would have not been out of pocket. At best, in the region of £50. I can only imagine however, he would retrieve half of that back in selling the item on.

This is why we have insurance. To recoup our losses and protect ourselves from the expense of rebuilding our dream. So in reality, my insurance premium might have rose the following year, but I would be pretty much as I was before.

But what about the things that aren't covered by insurance. The things that can't be replace. Those that you can't find down the local supermarket. I am of course talking about the feeling of safety in this perfect little world you have created. The vulnerability you are faced with. The going to bed, listening out for any sound outside, unable to sleep. The curling up and crying because there is nothing you can do.

Your world was a snow globe. And in one swift strike, the wall has cracked and the water leaked out. All you are left with is a shell. A carcass of what once was.

Of course, with time you can rebuild and heal. But you will always remember how you felt. That moment in time when you was at your worst.

That's the real cost.