Summer’s over.

It was the best summer I’ve had in so many years I can’t even remember.

When it was bad, it was really bad.. but when it was good it was incredible.

But all that’s over now.

Ben and I broke up two and half months ago.

It’s hard to believe it’s been that long.

I was the one to end it.

And yet, I was the one to call him up in tears. I was the one who left drunken voicemails saying "I miss you, I love you, I made a mistake and I want you back".

I dreamt about him every single night for a month.

Being without him felt more wrong than anything I’d ever experienced.

So we began talking about getting back together.

We saw each other one night a month after we broke up. I had moved to a city four hours away after the breakup for university.

When I saw him again it all came back. For me, anyway. He told me he was sort of interested in another girl, and that he felt "neutral" towards me.

I kept trying. I went home again to see him.

That’s when it happened. I’ve never told anyone about it. He didn’t really mean to do it. And he stopped once he realized I was crying.

He dried my tears with whispered "I love you"s and promises of getting back together.

And I let him, because I wanted it so bad.

He told me he wanted me back soon after that.

But at that point.. I wasn’t so sure anymore.

It’s been a few weeks now. I’m still not sure.

I called the university health services today to try to get an appointment with a counsellor, but they’re pretty booked up.

So I said "Nevermind then, it’s okay" and hung up.

But I don’t think it is okay.

I’m not okay.

I’m falling apart at the seams.

I’m in my second year of university in a city four hours from home.

I’m a small town girl completely lost in this big city.

I live with three people I rarely see.

Sometimes I spend days in bed because I can’t find the energy to get up and face the world.

I’m still losing weight.

I skip a lot of my classes.

I don’t do my readings.

I’ve been crying everyday for a long time.

I hear from my family once a week if I’m lucky.

I have seasonal affective disorder.

Sometimes I still think about hurting myself the way I used to.

It’s getting harder and harder to force myself to go on. To fake a smile and pretend I’m just fine.

I have never felt so alone.