I can’t forget him even after ten years. How do I go on?
I was just 23 when I went to study in England. Young, naive, filled with hopes and dreams—I had no idea how a single encounter could turn my whole life upside down and leave a mark that still lingers.
On my very first day at university, fate introduced me to Michael. He was ten years older than me, English, restrained, calm—not at all the type I was usually drawn to. But when our eyes met, everyone else seemed to disappear. There were about twenty people at the table, yet I only saw him. Something inside me shifted. It felt like I knew him, as if I had been searching for him my whole 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 our story began. He started learning Polish, and I picked up some English. It was like a dream. In his arms, I felt like myself, his voice carried a warmth I’d only ever heard in films. I was happy. Until I found out he was married. He had a wife and child back in England.
My world shattered in an instant. I wanted to end it all, to forget, but I couldn’t. He confessed he was planning a divorce—his wife had been unfaithful, their relationship had long since deteriorated, he was simply waiting for the right moment. I was heartbroken and returned home to Poland, but I came back shattered.
I didn’t leave the house for three months. Michael was the only one I communicated with. Every day—hours on end—we talked over Skype. He refused to leave me alone in that hell. When I decided to return to the UK, he met me at the airport with flowers and a home-cooked meal. He always cared, always checked if I had enough money, if I was warm, if I had eaten. He was like an older brother and, at the same time, my love.
But soon, everything unraveled again. Michael’s wife decided not to proceed with the divorce—for the child’s sake. He couldn’t leave her, nor his son. He told me honestly there was no future for us. I was alone again. For the second time, he broke my heart.
A year went by. I still couldn’t forget him. Then David appeared in my life—another Englishman, from the same town as Michael. We began dating, and I became pregnant and gave birth. We weren’t married, but we lived as a family. Despite this, I remained in contact with Michael. He would ask our mutual friends about me—how I was, how I was living, how the child was. He never completely faded from my life, lingering in the background.
Then one day—on January 19th—David 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, Michael found me and told me he was finally divorced. He was free. And I realized I couldn’t marry David. I couldn’t deceive him, or myself.
I confessed the whole truth to David. I told him I had loved someone else all these years. That I couldn’t forget. That I fought it, but the feeling was too strong. Michael admitted that he had never forgotten me either, that he had thought about me all this time.
I introduced Michael to my child. He proposed that we live together. And even though guilt towards David tore at my heart, I knew—I had no choice. For too long, I had been living in the past. Ten years, trying to erase Michael from my memory, but he was always there, every second.
I don’t want to take the child away from David. I don’t want to hurt him. He’s a good man and a wonderful father. But you can’t choose whom you love. It either exists, or it doesn’t.
Now, I’m at a crossroads. My heart beats with both pain and hope. I look into my child’s eyes and don’t know how to explain that sometimes, to find happiness, you need to take a step into the unknown. I look into Michael’s eyes and see that same spark I noticed 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 really be happy. And yet… I choose it. Because nothing has ever felt stronger.”
