The news that one of my favourite spots on Strand Street was closing sparked a whole cocktail of emotions. Distress. Anger. Confusion.

It no longer surprises me when something shuts in town. In my 23 years, I’ve already mourned Topshop, grieved Internacionale, and now find myself entering the early stages of heartbreak over the closure of Café W in Waterstones.

If you spot me wearing more black than usual, please respect my privacy.

The closure of Café W is something I can’t quite wrap my head around. Why has it gone? Every time I nestled into one of its cosy corners, it was buzzing with life. People flicking through their latest book finds, chatting with friends, catching up on work, or quietly holding meetings. It wasn’t just a café, it was a community space.

To some, it may have seemed like just another café. But to me, it was so much more. Café W was comforting. Familiar. Reliable.

And the pastries? Consistently excellent. From fluffy muffins to decadent tiffin slices—and the most divine millionaire’s shortbread (a personal weakness I never tried to resist).

Even the staff were part of the charm: always friendly, always attentive. It’s something I really value when choosing to sit in somewhere, and Café W always delivered.

Naturally, my first concern when I heard the news was the fate of the staff. Thankfully, they’ve retained their jobs, although in different roles. That, at least, is one positive.

Still, the closure hit me like a bad breakup - one I didn’t see coming. It reminded me of my first ever relationship, when I was dumped by text. Cold. Sudden. A bit humiliating, to be honest.

This time, I’ve been ghosted by a bookshop. And I truly don’t know what I did to deserve it.

Waterstones released a statement, which, frankly, felt like a personal message.

They explained the decision was to free up space for a greater variety of books. They also mentioned the number of nearby eateries and what they had to offer.

To me, that read like a classic ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ excuse. And just like with any heartbreak, it didn’t help.

If anything, I wanted to scream my appreciation for Café W from the rooftops. I wanted it to know how lovely it was.

One of my favourite little rituals - sorry, was - browsing the shelves at Waterstones, picking a book based on the blurbs that most intrigued me, then settling down in the café with a sweet treat and something hot to drink.

Of all the places in town where I could indulge in my favourite pastime, cosplaying as a mysterious, unknowable individual (I know, I know, I’ve been an extrovert since birth), Café W was the perfect stage.

They say the best way to get over something is to move on to the next. But honestly? I’m going to take some time to grieve this one.

Here’s hoping it’s not goodbye forever. Rest in peace, Café W.