{"id":2214,"date":"2020-01-10T23:51:14","date_gmt":"2020-01-11T06:51:14","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.irenenorth.com\/writings\/?p=2214"},"modified":"2024-04-22T02:46:10","modified_gmt":"2024-04-22T02:46:10","slug":"broken-windmill","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/irenenorth.com\/writings\/2020\/01\/10\/broken-windmill\/","title":{"rendered":"Broken windmill"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><a href=\"https:\/\/www.irenenorth.com\/writings\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/01\/kinderdijk-485258_640.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"https:\/\/www.irenenorth.com\/writings\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/01\/kinderdijk-485258_640.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"640\" height=\"480\" class=\"aligncenter size-full wp-image-2215\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p>A long time ago, I broke a guy&#8217;s heart. This is part of that story.<!--more--><\/p>\n<p><strong>Broken windmill<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>He came to life through bits and bytes<br \/>\nmade the words sweet and light<br \/>\nhe&#8217;d do anything for me<br \/>\nand he did every day until the day he broke my heart<\/p>\n<p>An afternoon stroll through Maastricht<br \/>\nhe held my hand as we walked through town<br \/>\nthe sweet smell of freshly baked bread<br \/>\nmade us smile, brought back memories of times past<br \/>\nthen, she asked who I was<\/p>\n<p>He said she was a family friend<br \/>\nnothing more, no need to worry<br \/>\nmy friend walked by her side<br \/>\nas he and I held hands<br \/>\nI thought of the freshly baked bread<br \/>\nas we walked through the day <\/p>\n<p>she was more than a family friendship<br \/>\nhe said not to worry<br \/>\nshe was a lover<br \/>\nhe said not to worry<br \/>\nI was to be his wife<br \/>\nhe&#8217;d take care of me<\/p>\n<p>The train ride from Utrecht to Rotterdam was quiet<br \/>\nonly the sound of the ataractic, rhythmic wheels rolling over joints<br \/>\nhe wanted to hold my hand<br \/>\nI said no, I&#8217;m tired, I want to be alone<br \/>\ntwo hands upon my head<br \/>\na cracked train window<\/p>\n<p>Speeding down the highway<br \/>\nsomewhere in Rotterdam<br \/>\nanother fight broke out<br \/>\nfist fight in the front seat<br \/>\nabout eighty miles per hour<br \/>\nwe arrived safely, but everything was broken inside<\/p>\n<p>A winter chill fell over the windmills<br \/>\nsome say it makes Kinderdijk more romantic<br \/>\nwe could see our breath<br \/>\nour words hung in the air<br \/>\nshe&#8217;s always going to be a part of our lives<\/p>\n<p>My nose grew cold, my ears red from the wind<br \/>\ncouples strode pas us<br \/>\nholding hands in this idyllic place<br \/>\nI still love you<br \/>\nbut I can&#8217;t<\/p>\n<p>He begged me not to go<br \/>\ntears streamed down his face<br \/>\nI heard the words, \u201cI love you\u201d<br \/>\nmy soul was broken, the words cut my heart<br \/>\nI turned and walked away<\/p>\n<p>I flipped the collar up on my black and purple jacket<br \/>\nto cover my cold and reddened ears<br \/>\nthe distance between us grew<br \/>\nhis words ached and crackled<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut I still love you\u201d<br \/>\nMy pace stumbled<br \/>\nI closed my eyes to keep the tears from falling<br \/>\nI had to keep on walking<\/p>\n<p>I left him cold and empty<br \/>\nnext to the windmill<br \/>\nwhere lovers like to pose<br \/>\nas I kept walking away<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>A long time ago, I broke a guy&#8217;s heart. This is part of that story.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[9],"tags":[177,285,366,378],"class_list":["post-2214","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry","tag-heartbreak","tag-poetry","tag-the-netherlands","tag-travel"],"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/irenenorth.com\/writings\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2214","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/irenenorth.com\/writings\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/irenenorth.com\/writings\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/irenenorth.com\/writings\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/irenenorth.com\/writings\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2214"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/irenenorth.com\/writings\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2214\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3717,"href":"https:\/\/irenenorth.com\/writings\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2214\/revisions\/3717"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/irenenorth.com\/writings\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2214"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/irenenorth.com\/writings\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2214"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/irenenorth.com\/writings\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2214"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}