I can’t forget him even after ten years. How do I carry on?
I was just 23 when I went to study in England. Young, naive, full of hopes and dreams—I couldn’t imagine how a single encounter could turn my life upside down and leave an imprint that still lingers today.
On my first day at university, fate introduced me to James. He was ten years my senior, English, reserved, and calm—not at all the type of man I usually gravitated towards. But when our eyes met, it was as if I stopped hearing and seeing everyone else. Around the table sat twenty people, but I only saw him. Something inside me shifted. As if I knew him. As if I’d been searching all my life and finally found him.
We started bumping into each other more often—it turned out we had mutual friends. Gradually, we grew closer, and soon enough, our story began. He started learning Polish, and I began learning English. It was pure euphoria. In his arms, I felt like myself, in his voice, I heard a tenderness I’d only known from films. I was happy. Until I found out he was married, with a wife and child back in England.
My world collapsed in an instant. I wanted to cut all ties, forget everything, but I couldn’t. He explained that he was planning to divorce—his wife had betrayed him, their relationship had long since crumbled, and he was just waiting for the right moment. Torn and conflicted, I eventually returned home to Poland, but I went back broken.
For three months I didn’t leave my house. The only person I communicated with was James. Every day—hours on end—we talked on Skype. He didn’t leave me alone in that hell. And when I decided to return to England, he met me at the airport with flowers and a warm meal he’d cooked himself. Always caring, always checking if I had money, if I was cold or hungry. He was like an older brother and yet—my love.
But soon, everything fell apart again. James’s wife decided against divorce—for the sake of their child. He couldn’t leave her, couldn’t abandon his son. He honestly told me that we had no future. Once more, I was alone. He broke my heart for the second time.
A year passed. I still couldn’t forget him. Then Jake came into my life—also English and from the same city as James. We started dating, then I got pregnant and had a child. We weren’t married but lived like a family. All this while, I continued exchanging messages with James. He asked about me through friends, was interested in how I was doing, how the child was. He didn’t disappear from my life, even if just in the background.
Then, one day—on 19th January—Jake and I were supposed to get married. But for some reason, we postponed the wedding to the summer. And just two days later—on 21st January—James found me and said he finally got divorced. He was free. And I realized I couldn’t marry Jake. I couldn’t deceive him or myself.
I told Jake the whole truth. That all these years, I loved another. That I couldn’t forget. That I tried, fought this feeling, but it was stronger than me. James confessed, too, that he never forgot me, that he thought about me all this time.
I introduced James to my child. He suggested we live together. And although my heart was torn apart by guilt towards Jake, I knew there was no choice. I had lived in the past for too long. Ten years I tried to erase James from memory, but he was within me every second.
I don’t want to take the child from Jake. I don’t want to hurt him. He is a good man and a wonderful father. But love isn’t something you choose. It either exists, or it doesn’t.
Now, I stand at a crossroads. My heart beats with both pain and hope. I look into my child’s eyes not knowing how to explain that sometimes, to be happy, you have to take a step into the unknown. I look into James’s eyes—and see that same spark I saw on the day we first met.
Ten years ago, I didn’t know what true love was. Now I do. But this love has brought so many tears, so much loss, that I’m unsure if I’ll ever find happiness fully. Yet, I choose it. Because nothing stronger have I ever felt in my life.
