It’s been ten years and I still can’t forget him. How do I move on?
I was only 23 when I traveled to England for my studies. Young, naive, filled with hopes and dreams—I had no idea how a single encounter could turn my world upside down and leave a mark that remains even now.
On my first day at university, fate introduced me to Andrew. He was ten years my senior, English, reserved, calm—nothing like the kind of men I usually noticed. But the moment our eyes met, it felt as if everyone else in the room disappeared. There were twenty people around the table, yet I could only see him. Something inside me trembled, like I had known him forever, like I had been searching for him all my life and finally found him.
We started bumping into each other more often, discovering we had mutual friends. Gradually, we grew close, and soon our story began. He started learning Polish, I picked up English more diligently. It felt euphoric. In his embrace, I was myself, and in his voice, I heard a tenderness I previously only knew from films. I was happy, until the moment I learned he was married, with a wife and child in England.
My world shattered in an instant. I wanted to leave, to end things, to forget, but I couldn’t. He told me he was planning to get a divorce—his wife had been unfaithful, their relationship was long broken; he was just waiting for the right time. I was torn apart, struggling, and eventually returned home to Poland, heartbroken.
For three months, I didn’t leave the house. The only person I communicated with was Andrew. Each day, we talked for hours on Skype. He stayed with me through that nightmare. Finally, when I decided to return to England, he met me at the airport with flowers and a homemade meal. He always cared for me, always checked if I had money, if I was cold, if I had eaten. He was like an older brother, yet also my love.
But soon everything unraveled again. Andrew’s wife decided not to go through with the divorce—for the sake of their child. He couldn’t leave her, couldn’t leave his son. He honestly told me that we didn’t have a future. Again, I was left alone. He broke my heart a second time.
A year passed. I still couldn’t forget him. Then Jack came into my life—also English, from the same town as Andrew. We started dating, I became pregnant and gave birth. We weren’t married, yet we lived like a family. Throughout this time, I kept in touch with Andrew. He asked our mutual friends about me, wondered how I was doing, how the child was. He never vanished from my life, though always just out of sight.
Then one day—on the 19th of January—Jack and I were supposed to get married. But for some reason, we postponed the wedding until summer. And just two days later, on January 21st, Andrew found me and said he was finally divorced. He was free. And I realized I couldn’t marry Jack. I couldn’t deceive him or myself.
I told Jack the whole truth. That all these years I loved another. That I couldn’t forget. That I tried, fought against it, but this feeling was stronger than me. Andrew also admitted that he never forgot me, that he thought of me all this time.
I introduced Andrew to my child. He suggested we live together. And though my heart ached with guilt towards Jack, I knew I had no choice. I’d lived in the past for too long. For ten years, I tried to erase Andrew from my memory, but he was with me every second.
I don’t want to take the child away from Jack. I don’t want to hurt him. He’s a good person and a wonderful father. But love isn’t a choice. It either exists or it doesn’t.
Now I find myself at a crossroads. My heart beats with pain and hope. I look into my child’s eyes, unsure how to explain that sometimes, to find happiness, you have to take a step into the unknown. I look into Andrew’s eyes and see the 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 can ever truly be happy. And still… I choose it. Because nothing else has ever felt so powerful.”
