The first text was: 'Darling, are you still alive? '

My boyfriend has been serving in the Azov Regiment since last year and is proud to be there. He really enjoyed the service — the conditions were ideal. In August, we saw him off at the train to Mariupol: me, my family, and his family — my future husband’s family.

For the last six months, we had a long-distance relationship, communicating over video. He never complained — we just missed each other. During his service, we only saw each other twice — on October 14 and February 5. Twenty days before the war, I visited Mariupol for the first time. My boyfriend gave me a tour. We went to this amazing restaurant, “Uncle Givi” — we love good food.

We’ve been together for 8 years, not married yet, and no kids. We really wanted to start a family this summer, but at 4 in the morning, something vile and vicious came into our country, and the war began.

I couldn’t stay in Mariupol longer because of school and work in Kharkiv. I was supposed to move to Mariupol in the summer — we’d planned to live there together. Now, because of the war, I have nothing.

My first text was: “My love, are you still alive?” He didn’t answer right away. He wrote back: “Yes, the Grads have started.” It was terrifying — all my thoughts were about Mariupol. Such a quiet, peaceful city it had been. Had been…

Today, nothing is left of the city. I listen to my boyfriend — he tells me maybe 5% of everything that’s happening there. He can’t tell it all. There isn’t enough time. You’d need a book for that.

His brother-in-arms died right in front of him. First, he was wounded in the head. The medics, with their meager supply of medication, didn’t know what to do or how to treat him. To spare him the suffering, they put him into a medically induced coma. Then a helicopter came from Dnipro, but they couldn’t get him out. Russia dropped an aerial bomb on the vehicle with its driver — he and a couple of other wounded burned alive.

We mostly text; if we manage to get through by phone, we talk. He comes online about once every 10 days, if he picks up a Wi-Fi signal somewhere — that’s a rarity.

We mostly talk about our own things: how much we love each other and how much we miss each other. I always ask if he’s eaten, what he’s eaten, what supplies they still have, and where they get it all. They’re in the most horrible conditions. There are no more reserves of water or food. They’ll die of starvation if the world doesn’t save them now. And it will be on his conscience.

He says there’s no time to rest — it’s not the kind of situation where you rest. Even if someone wanted to, the shelling goes on 24/7 — from the sea, from the sky, from the ground, from every possible direction.

How am I coping? How am I supposed to cope? I sleep in a warm bed, I eat, I drink water, while he’s been stripped of all of that. He’s lost 20 kilograms.

I remember where he is, and I won’t give up. We will save them, since the world doesn’t care. They’re holding out in conditions that should make the world scream for help for them. I’m in Ukraine, and I’m not leaving until my boyfriend comes back.