“We need to talk,” I said a few nights ago as I watched the glowing green numbers on my alarm… “We need to talk,” I said a few nights ago as I watched the glowing green numbers on my alarm clock flick to 2:59 a.m. As much as I wanted to go to sleep, I knew now, entering into my senior year of college, that it was time to end the relationship.

Sleep and I officially broke up after seeing each other every night since the day I was born and after three years of riding a roller coaster of young college love.

In the beginning our problems were simple. Sleep knew that freshman year would be difficult and that we’d be together less and less because of work for classes, making new friends and the wonders of surfing the Internet late at night getting in the way. I told him I was unavailable because I didn’t have enough time during the day. Sleep understood, and he didn’t visit on nights I was too busy.

Instead, I’d pound away on my laptop, working on the 20 pages due the next morning for a 9 a.m. class or sipping a cappuccino over a textbook in a cozy chair at Hillman Library.

As tough as it was to put our relationship on hold, getting through college wasn’t too bad without Sleep. I got used to the adrenaline buzz that follows a night of insomnia, and I liked the numb feeling that comes from watching back-to-back episodes of “Next” on MTV until the sunrise. Besides, college and sleep just don’t mix.

Distance put a strain on the relationship, too. Back in high school, Sleep and I were close. I set aside special time for him to make sure we saw each other every day. First semester of college, I tried to do this still, scheduling in nap times between my classes and in the afternoons.

Sophomore and junior years wore on, and the naps disappeared. During the day, internships, jobs and school pulled me away from him. At night, the hallowed lights of the Cathedral of Learning beckoned, and my good friend Caffeine kept me company instead of Sleep.

As for weekends, that’s the time for socializing. How could Sleep and I possibly see each other then? There were parties to go to, people to meet.

After 21 years, our relationship had completely crumbled. “It’s not you, it’s me,” I said a few months ago when I realized that Sleep and I were growing apart. We tried to work it out, and I vowed to go to sleep earlier – to no success. Our relationship was one we couldn’t save.

Last night, long after finishing a fresh box of Wheat Thins while sitting on my living room floor and staring into space, I shifted my gaze to the window. Is Sleep out there somewhere, staring at the same star? Is he longing for my company like I long for his, I wondered. My heart ached, and my eyes burned with tears.

The pain of the breakup was too much to bear. I walked to my bed – lonely, awake – to lie there until the sun rose. Just one more night with Sleep, I hoped. But no – it’s over.

Maybe we’ll get back together someday after college. But until then, I won’t let it happen. I must stay strong and awake until the wee hours of the morning, passing the time Facebook-stalking my middle school crush or waiting idly for another episode of the Tae Bo workout infomercial.

Let my insomniac heartbreak be a lesson to you: The rigors of college life simply do not allow strong relationships from the past to stay strong. Things change and suck up your time. And while I can’t say you’ll definitely lose your high school boyfriend or girlfriend during the next four years, you will lose time to sleep. That’s how college life goes.

As much as I’ll always love Sleep, I’ve learned to move on, and you will, too. It’s called growing up.

My new boyfriend isn’t as comforting. He’s sometimes boring, sometimes exciting, oftentimes stressful. Despite his shortcomings, Procrastination and I will be very happy, I hope.

And if we don’t work out when college ends, my ex-boyfriend taught me that I shouldn’t lose any shut-eye over it.

E-mail Katelyn at [email protected].