I was riding shotgun as dad and I made our way through the crowded streets of Hollands political capital. Usually I struggle to sit down in a car for so long without music, but on this particular day my thoughts were firing so loud I didn't need it. I didn't mind it either. I'd use music as a distraction from the boredom and the thoughts that might enter my head when forced to sit down for long periods of time. Outside the window, the shades of brown brick buildings laced with white door frames titled towards and away from moving red cobblestone pathway. The drive didn't need any distractions, the streets spoke to me in a way no other inanimate thing has.
Then we drove past a small corner cafe. It was located in the least busiest part of the town, and hidden within two other run down residential buildings. I wondered if anyone would actually go there to eat. Contrary to the half lit "OPEN" sign, the place looked like it had been closed for years.
What made it stick so well in my memory was its name: 'Heartbreak Cafe'. I started thinking about heart break. Duh. And I came to the conclusion that heartbreak doesn't have to be singularly associated to being in love with someone, and having them leave you, or you leave them. To experience the feeling of 'heartbreak', all it takes is a single relationship with anything, not specifically romantic, just an attachment to any one or thing. I don't think you have to have your heart broken to experience heartbreak. If this is the case then I can say that I have experienced heartbreak many many times.
I feel it here in Holland. I feel it knowing that I'm going to have to go back home soon, and that I can't call this place my home even though it feels 100 times more familiar than New Zealand.
I felt it as I fell out of love, for no particular reason.
I feel it every time my mother and I are arguing, I feel it when I look in to her disappointed eyes.
I feel it when I hurt my best friends, and I don't mean to.
I'll feel it saying good-bye to my Oma for the last time.
I've felt it leaving Holland, and I'll feel it again.
Heartbreak happens. It's another one of those shitty things that happen that are completely out of our power to control. I guess its just one of those things where you'll listen to Ben Howard on repeat and stare out of the car window and embrace it. But don't forget it. You can't forget the memory of the thing and you can't forget how much you ached when it left. And don't let yourself disconnect from those feelings because when you strip away all the ribbon and embellishments, what's left is a naked you: a sum of your experiences that you should not be ashamed of.
I feel heartbreak, but I'm not broken. Nothing can can break you down to the extent that not even that one person or that one place can fix.
Sincerely,
Bee
What made it stick so well in my memory was its name: 'Heartbreak Cafe'. I started thinking about heart break. Duh. And I came to the conclusion that heartbreak doesn't have to be singularly associated to being in love with someone, and having them leave you, or you leave them. To experience the feeling of 'heartbreak', all it takes is a single relationship with anything, not specifically romantic, just an attachment to any one or thing. I don't think you have to have your heart broken to experience heartbreak. If this is the case then I can say that I have experienced heartbreak many many times.
I feel it here in Holland. I feel it knowing that I'm going to have to go back home soon, and that I can't call this place my home even though it feels 100 times more familiar than New Zealand.
I felt it as I fell out of love, for no particular reason.
I feel it every time my mother and I are arguing, I feel it when I look in to her disappointed eyes.
I feel it when I hurt my best friends, and I don't mean to.
I'll feel it saying good-bye to my Oma for the last time.
I've felt it leaving Holland, and I'll feel it again.
Heartbreak happens. It's another one of those shitty things that happen that are completely out of our power to control. I guess its just one of those things where you'll listen to Ben Howard on repeat and stare out of the car window and embrace it. But don't forget it. You can't forget the memory of the thing and you can't forget how much you ached when it left. And don't let yourself disconnect from those feelings because when you strip away all the ribbon and embellishments, what's left is a naked you: a sum of your experiences that you should not be ashamed of.
I feel heartbreak, but I'm not broken. Nothing can can break you down to the extent that not even that one person or that one place can fix.
Sincerely,
Bee
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