You know the feeling. Your thoughts constantly turn in that direction. You have little flashbacks to happier times. It hurts, but you can't help but turning your mind down memory lane. It creeps up on you at the most unexpected of times, and you can't stop. It's an addiction, and it's unshakeable.
This is exactly how I feel when it comes to Dublin. It's been such a hard breakup. Especially seeing as it was noone's fault, it really was just a distance thing (and a visa thing).
I think about Dublin. Every. Single. Day. I remember stupid things about it, like the way I used to walk to work every day. I remember beautiful things about it, like how I'd never seen a sky that looks quite like that in my entire life, and now that I have, how I'll never be able to forget it. I remember the rain that was really more of a mist, and how I loved walking around town in it, how it made the place feel even more magical. In short, I remember the poetry of the place.
I've never felt an affinity with a place in the way I do Dublin. I've written previously about how I ended up there on a completely unexpected family trip. I remember the creeping feeling that I somehow belonged there. I remember saying this out loud one day to my Irish stepdad, who laughed at my enthusiasm. I then said, 'no, I'm serious. I can see myself living here.' That was it really, I was a goner. I was head over heels in love with the place.
And our time together was one of the most amazing years of my life. Not only because of the amazing, amazing friends that I made, or the amazing places and things that I saw, or the fact that I was finally in Europe, far, far away from all of the drama at home. It was amazing because I was in Dublin! I was living in the city that had irrevocably captured my heart in the space of three weeks.
Trinity College, the park in the middle of Merrion Square, the cobblestoned laneways, Grafton Street at Christmas time, the way the city looked covered in snow, and the Liffey, flowing right through the centre of it all. They are constantly on my mind.
Dublin, this is my love letter to you. I've never been through a harder breakup. But I'm glad we're still friends. I promise I'll see you again soon.
A little bit heartbroken, but able to bounce back,
B. J. Barnes
This is exactly how I feel when it comes to Dublin. It's been such a hard breakup. Especially seeing as it was noone's fault, it really was just a distance thing (and a visa thing).
I think about Dublin. Every. Single. Day. I remember stupid things about it, like the way I used to walk to work every day. I remember beautiful things about it, like how I'd never seen a sky that looks quite like that in my entire life, and now that I have, how I'll never be able to forget it. I remember the rain that was really more of a mist, and how I loved walking around town in it, how it made the place feel even more magical. In short, I remember the poetry of the place.
I've never felt an affinity with a place in the way I do Dublin. I've written previously about how I ended up there on a completely unexpected family trip. I remember the creeping feeling that I somehow belonged there. I remember saying this out loud one day to my Irish stepdad, who laughed at my enthusiasm. I then said, 'no, I'm serious. I can see myself living here.' That was it really, I was a goner. I was head over heels in love with the place.
And our time together was one of the most amazing years of my life. Not only because of the amazing, amazing friends that I made, or the amazing places and things that I saw, or the fact that I was finally in Europe, far, far away from all of the drama at home. It was amazing because I was in Dublin! I was living in the city that had irrevocably captured my heart in the space of three weeks.
Trinity College, the park in the middle of Merrion Square, the cobblestoned laneways, Grafton Street at Christmas time, the way the city looked covered in snow, and the Liffey, flowing right through the centre of it all. They are constantly on my mind.
Dublin, this is my love letter to you. I've never been through a harder breakup. But I'm glad we're still friends. I promise I'll see you again soon.
A little bit heartbroken, but able to bounce back,
B. J. Barnes
No comments:
Post a Comment