2 days ago, my second day here in london, about 2 hours after my previous post Erica and I left the apartment.
It got broken into.
They came in through the window, and stole the soul out of my body.
They took my ipod, my jewelry, my computer, my 5D mk ii camera, my 16-35 lense, and worst of all --not in money, but value-- they took both of my hard drives, all of my work from this entire trip.
We came home, after being denied entry by 3 bar/clubs, Erica was really drunk, and the window was wide open. I ran to all of my hiding places and started a feverish search ending in absolute breakdown and an ocean of tears.
I was shouting and whispering, ogh my god oh my god, we've been robbed, its stolen, its not here, its gone.
Erica sat on the bed, confused, replying; no it can't be, no that didn;t happen, no just go to sleep in the morning it'll be fine, its not gone, you just can't find it, it's all here, nothing bad happened.
I felt as though I had nothing to live for. And was in fact simply a body living without a spirit or a soul.
I used Ericas american phone to call my mother and saviour, and she had me call the police.
They came, they went.
Erica cried, and fell asleep.
I broke down further. I couldn't see, or feel my body.
Eventually the next morning I slept for a couple of hours.
I've been looking for the light, and strength, and Its gotten better slowly. There have been moments of happiness that eclipe the memory momentarily. But returning home to that apartment is placing me phisically back in my nightmare everynight.
Hopefully we'll move soon.
I'm afraid, and I'm not.
I'll get better.
I need love.
I'm sorry I have no photos to show you, or to see myself.