On my way to my first ever break up

As the title suggests, this is literally my last semester with her. Both of us are studying overseas. I met her during my first year here—she was my senior in school, even though we were born the same year. I was drawn to her presence and beauty from the very first moment I saw her; she was cool and beautiful.We didn’t speak at the time, but she remembered me as someone who could speak her native language, even though we’re from different countries. For context: we’re both international students, both from different places, and we’re both female.

We started seeing each other more through club activities, and that’s when I learned she had a boyfriend. I immediately pushed aside any thoughts of dating her and focused on being a good friend. We began hanging out one-on-one and eventually talked every day. At the time, I didn’t sense anything unusual between us.

Then, a year later, after summer break, she had issues with her rental and moved into my place. That’s when things shifted. We talked constantly and shared a bed every night. I was going through a phase of drinking heavily (though not abusively), and I often ended up crying when drunk. That’s when I started noticing something in her behavior. One night, drunk, I admitted I had a crush on someone. She pressed me for details—who it was, why I hadn’t made a move. I told her I couldn’t because of circumstances (namely, her relationship).

To skip a long story: things became intensely intimate while she lived with me. We’d fall asleep holding each other, and our conversations went far beyond friendship. It felt like we were already a couple. I was torn the entire time. I knew what we were doing, and I was painfully aware she still had a boyfriend back in her home country. I’d cry whenever I drank, and she’d be there to comfort me.

This ambiguous relationship lasted about a year. After her boyfriend broke up with her, we officially started dating two months later. But we kept it private—only a few close friends from our home countries knew; our mutual friends and her family did not. She was certain her family would never accept her being in a same-sex relationship.

Now, we’ve arrived at the present. She’s in her final semester and will return to her home country for good afterward. There’s no future where we live in the same place—neither of us can move to the other’s country. We’ve talked it through, and it seems breaking up is our only option. She’s suggested we stay in touch and go back to being friends, assuring me I’ll always have a place in her life, even after she moves on and eventually enters a heterosexual relationship (which she feels she must, given her family situation).

I cry every day, thinking about us falling apart and facing life alone after she leaves. I don’t know if staying in contact will help or hurt, but I feel trapped. We’re not breaking up because of cheating or a loss of love—only because of circumstances beyond our control. And all I can think is: this is my last semester with her. I’m supposed to be cherishing our remaining time, but instead, I’m overwhelmed by grief. I just can’t bear it.