Currently reading: Words for My Comrades by Dean Van Nguyen 📚

Almost a year ago tonight, my ex-girlfriend broke into my house and robbed me. That’s wild on its own. She’s also a fairly successful metal singer, which sort of gives it that Bill Murray “No one will ever believe you” edge. I’m still dealing with the fallout from that night, so I haven’t gotten around to processing the fact that tomorrow night is the anniversary of the second time she broke in; that time to cover her tracks.

We only dated for a month-and-a-half before I broke up with her, so I wouldn’t have expected a spiteful post-breakup song, let alone two felonies.

By the time she snuck in and stole about $1,000 worth of stuff, I’d already moved out most of my things and shipped them up here to Boise. I didn’t think I’d need my weed whacker, stray kitchen knickknacks, or disabled SimpliSafe system right away. Turns out I’m a sucker for hubris, the not-so-silent killer.

Did you know that even if your SimpliSafe system isn’t connected to a WiFi network, the app still logs whenever someone disarms it? My ex didn’t. So, about four hours after I broke up with her I got a notification that my security system had been disabled by the only person with both a key and my passcode.

I was out of town helping my mom so I didn’t see the notification until the next morning. By then, my realtor had checked on the house before a showing and called me. Nearly everything he listed could’ve been chalked up to a random thief: the SimpliSafe system and weed whacker could earn a few bucks on Facebook Marketplace. But only my ex would steal a shower head.

At the time, she was crashing with the singer from an English metal band. She constantly complained that their shower head didn’t have a filter and that it was wrecking her hair. A fair complaint, but I think a trip to Home Depot’s more convenient than robbing your ex-boyfriend.

Per my lawyer’s advice, I reached out to my newly-appointed sleep paralysis demon and asked if she could return my Simplisafe base station; I just wanted to cancel my subscription. Instead, that night she returned to my home to stage a random break-in: gloves left outside, random trash spread throughout the house, the full burglary treatment. I can laugh about it now, but that took a few months of therapy and replacing all my locks. Needless to say, I don’t plan on giving any future partners my address until we’re married.

A year later, I think I still have some trust issues to work through. Usually about halfway through a first date, I have to ask myself, “Can I picture this woman stealing my shower head?”