I woke up at around 5 a.m. after rolling the duvet off my legs feeling warm. As I rolled over to my right side, I can smell the scent of someone on a t-shirt used as a pillow cover: it was the scent of my boyfriend.

No. Correction: My ex-boyfriend.

The night before I went to bed as a happy and tired (since I’ve been teaching like crazy) woman in a long distance relationship with James. Last night, I went to bed as a single woman and today I woke up the same, however feeling miserable and lonely without a text from James.

I dug my face deep into the pillow, smelling his Lynx’s Africa faded scent and said his name.

‘James,’ I said in a faint voice, ‘How could you do this to me? This can’t be true.’

I sat up from my bed looking straight ahead towards the large sliding door mirror and asked myself, ‘Is this really true? James? Tell me this isn’t real?’ I paused for a couple of seconds thinking of these answers and once I knew them, I placed my hands over my face and cried.

James and I broke up last night over skype. It took one hour to make it official via cam. I was just in London three days ago and he didn’t have the courage to tell me face to face. Therefore, he decided to break up with me being miles and miles away without being able to strangle him, rip apart his Nottingham Forest calendar that his mother buys him for Christmas every year or setting fire to his CD collection.

This morning was very tough. The first person I called was my sister, Genny. I had to tell her the news because she means the world to me.

‘Genny, it’s me.’

‘Hey HO! What’s up?’

‘Umm…’ I hesitated to tell her, but I knew this would kill her mood. ‘James broke up with me’.

‘What? Really?!’

‘Yes. He’s left me.’

Pause. My sister really knows how to make a dramatic change of feeling. ‘WHAT A FUCKING DICK!’  The words were harsh, but honestly, they fitted to what has happened.

‘Genny, please don’t call him that, because he was really sad and crying when we broke up and…’

‘Ara, what an asshole! Really?! You just got accepted to grad school in London just yesterday and then he leaves you like this?! What a coward not able to tell you in person. What a fucking wuss!’

And my sister wasn’t alone; my mother was also there with her. She also had her two cents worth advice.

‘Ara…’, my mother replied to my cries, ‘Para de llorar por un cabron que no vale la pena! No es nada tuyo!’ (Stop crying for an asshole who isn’t worth your worries! He’s not related to you!)

Talking to my sister and mother really helped me get out of bed this morning. I also had mentioned to Genny that I was going to go inactive on Facebook. I just can’t bare to see all the happy updates and especially James’s updates.

‘If you get off of Facebook Ara, he’s going to get away with it’. Genny wasn’t happy with James’s request last night.’No! You put pictures up of you being happy, and telling him to fuck off! He doesn’t deserve pity, because he broke your heart! You get up and you tell yourself that today is going to be a great day. Say it!’

I cried and said, ‘Genny, I can’t say it, ok? You must understand that I lost someone and I won’t ever have him back, however I will have to move on and live without him’. I struggling saying the last words without shedding a tear.

After 40 minutes of great family advice, I was able to get up and get ready for my long day at work with primary school children. Now I don’t mind working where I work, but I do mind the behavior in the classroom (more like classroom management) which is a bit out of a control. I do have some classroom management skills, however I see these children once or twice a week for a 45 minute set and a major challenge is set for me everyday: I do not understand their language. I don’t speak Polish.

I’m an English native teacher in Warsaw, Poland. I’ve been teaching for over a year now. I find it very difficult at times to teach small children because they ask me in Polish if they could do something or get something to eat or if they have free time, but I just take it as I go day by day. It’s a challenge, but worth getting the hugs and seeing their smiles.

Today was very difficult to deal with them. I couldn’t let down my job and lose work hours because of James. I had to get up and go to work, just like he was doing as well. I wonder how he did today.

After the conversation with my sister and mother, I got into teacher planning mode; I started to look through all my printouts and thinking which color activity sheet or puzzles would be good for each class. Once I got a sort of lesson plan for the day, I packed it all up and left out the door with only 6 minutes to spare to get the 127 bus to the bridge to then getting on the 8 tram and waiting for the express bus where I must pay 3.50 zlotys to drop me off near my primary school every Wednesday and Friday totaling a near 15 classes x 45 minute per week.

I felt dead. I felt dead as well without make up on. I didn’t take a shower and just ran out the door. I told myself, ‘Ara make it through today. Just today.’

I ended up making to work on time able to make the copies I needed for the day at the office. Then comes in the Head of English Teacher, Dorota, and was tired because she went to bed late last night since they had their parent conference meeting which lasted till 1opm. Then she asked me how I was doing. I told her the truth.

‘Well, my boyfriend and I ended it yesterday last night so I personally don’t want to be here, but I’m here. I’m here.’

‘Oh dear.’, Dorota said with a sigh and a sad face.’ I’m so sorry to hear this. But ok, I understand. I’m glad you are here.’

Once the bell rang at 8:30am, I had to put on my teacher face and just get through. I was avoiding to count down, but more like make it through each class in one piece. Throughout the day, I was getting text messages from close friends who had heard about my situation last night. I had written to them privately through FB chat/messenger. Nothing from James.

The children were their same regular way: crazy, loud and bad playing with their toys, drawing on white sheets of paper, or making those bracelets and rings with those silly colorful rubber bands. I can get their short attention, but to have lessons with me for 45 minutes in English is confusing and exhausting for 6-8 year olds.  But I pulled through the day with asking children for hugs and even taking a picture or two with them to remind me that there are people who love me, even students who have no idea what is going on, but were able to give me their love and affection by writing Miss Ara, I Love You on the chalkboard and offering me bracelets and rings. It’s one of the best loves from a child who isn’t yours and a joy of being a teacher.

Before my last class, I sat down next to a male teacher who teaches Ethics (geez forgot his name). He looks like some sort of hipster (he was wearing the tight colored red jeans, round glasses and nice hair) which is nice, but have no idea about his age. He asked me how I was doing and well I also told him the same thing. After a one minute pause he looked at me and said, ‘Can I make you a tea or coffee?’ I was flattered he offered.’ Really? Oh ok. Yes. A coffee would be great thank you.’ He got up and asked how many sugars and how strong do I want my coffee and told him that I only want two spoonful each.

I tell you now, that my highlight of the day was him offering and making me a coffee. There are men out there who care about women and are nice and gentle. And he cared about me that moment since he knew I was down, so making me a coffee was enough for me to have a smile on my face again. ‘Really, thank you very much. It really has made my day.’, I told him. He said, ‘Oh it’s simple for me to do this, so don’t worry’.

Small gestures and simple actions to someone who is having a bad day can make a difference to them.

Once the bell rung at 4pm, the depression kicked in. I had an urge to come home and cry. I knew that from today this evening to Tuesday morning I was going to have this time to morn.

I say morn because I feel I lost a part of me; James, you were my world. I had build so much around us and all I got was a push and a rejection from you. Cold. Sad. A life sentence to death.

One hour later, I found myself at my flat. As I came into the entrance and locked the door, I remembered the time James came to my flat in the early hours of August looking at me with big eyes and excitement knowing that I was here in presence next to him after being apart for a month. I put my jacket and scarf away and once opening the door to my room, I saw his t-shirt over my pillow. I said out loud as I pulled the covers to go into bed with my working clothes on, ‘Oh James, you’re gone. You’ve left me’.  I held the pillow tightly and cried 2 minutes while asking God, ‘Why God….why did I lose him? Why did you take him away from me? I did everything. I did it all and this is what I get? I love him God, I love him….why did I lose him?’

I felt like Mother Courage from Bertolt Brecht’s Mother Courage and Her Children. Yes, the play is about a woman who makes a business out of war and loses her children to it, however she has to move on and pushes it all to the side or hides how she really REALLY feels deep down as a human. ‘In Weigel’s performance, when the soldiers leave Courage lets out a long scream, her body tensed, head held facing in the opposite diretion, hands gripping her dress in despair but no sound escapes.’ Brecht gave her a ‘Silent Scream’: just expression, but no sound.

When sufferings become unendurable the cries are no longer heard- Bertolt Brecht

After my two minute wailing of a cry, I got a phone call from Elizabeth to ask what time she should come over and visit. I had at least 1.5 hours to make dinner and catch up with friends about this drama that has happened.

I’m not listening to music at the moment alone. I can’t. I’m scared of myself. I’m scared that I will start playing depressing songs and I’ll go into a state of depression that I won’t be able to get myself out. I can’t even play happy songs because they remind me of James or play our Spotify list where we would play this list while making love. There is also the inbox messages with songs attached to them that I can’t bare to see them. Or play the songs that we last danced to on our last Saturday together in Blackheath, London. Someday I’ll write up the songs that we danced to, but for now, I don’t want to think about them….

So when Elizabeth comes over (or anyone) I feel that I’m safe enough to listen to them with someone. One song I am playing over and over is Nick Drake’s Place to Be. What a song I tell you. It just sums up the way I feel right now:

‘And I was strong, strong in the sun
I thought I’d see when day is done
Now I’m weaker than the palest blue
Oh so weak in this need for you’

-Nick Drake

I cried with Elizabeth and she held me. She has also been in this place before. It’s moments like this I wish I could have my family and friends next to me, but they are all over the world and some of them don’t even know my drama or they still think I’m with my Polish ex-boyfriend, Greg, whom I ended the relationship in June because I was in love with James. I promise that this story will all come to light as days to come. You’ll soon know why I build my world around James.

Elizabeth is an amazing friend. I love her too much. We met while we were working in Radom, Poland in an English school which I’m not going to mention because they were very rude to me the last two weeks of employment with them. I can understand why; I left them last minute to leave towards Warsaw. We also read tarot cards together.

Yes, I believe in them so back off! lol We had to find out the truth about people’s feelings and one of the readings were about James and I which came to conclusion that we were going to go apart for sometime but may see each other in the future. The way we left it, it seems like I’ll be doing the calling in the future IF settled in the UK. For now, we really need to be apart so we can grow and forget about us and all this love we had for us.

Main reason he left me: He just didn’t want to meet me 50/50 which questioned him why and that the love wasn’t growing for him (him feeling the way I did for him). We love our friendship, our times, our memories, our moments and intimacy, but long distance killed him (he lives in London) and I couldn’t save him. I had to also let go and die. So we had to go apart because of distance and the pressure of all of it going so fast that he couldn’t catch up and it was consuming him which put him in depression and loss.

I’m sad and upset at the same time. I know I’m romanticizing this break up, but as I was going to work this morning I thought, ‘I’m going to write about this’. And here I am. I’m exposing myself naked to the world and telling my side of the story. I’m not going to hide it and make it as clean as possible. No. It can’t work this way. But I will do my best to tell it like it is without sugar coating things because it all needs to come out.

You must be wondering why do I live in Warsaw and he lives in London? Well my friends it will all come to light for days to come. All in time I say.

As of tomorrow, I’ll be on a juicing reboot for 60 days. I know it sounds mad, but I did it last year and I became a changed woman. I know that if i do it for another 60 days, I’ll be superwoman. I’ll have  to go more into that in the time to come as well.

But this blog will be about love, loss, reflection, finding reasons to live, reliving my bubbly energy again, and memories between James and I. It will be hard, but I hope I can manage to bring out the truth that I wouldn’t wish this feeling on my enemies nor anyone in the world. This feeling of emptiness is dark and depressing. I hope I don’t get deep into Nick Drake songs. He died of an sleeping overdose medication, but there are people who think he committed suicide. Whatever it is, I just don’t want to get there or near this area. I love life; I just don’t love where I’m at now.

Tonight I’m too tired to think about James so I’m heading to bed. Tomorrow is a new day. Let’s hope for the best to come.