As a Los Angeles native it's no surprise that I'm acquainted with the sun. Most my days are met with sun kisses and this summer is no different. Yet summer isn't a fun experience for me and it hasn't been for many years. Every summer feels exactly the same to me, a never ending, sad story.

Just like most people I look ahead to summer and plan things to waste my sunny days with friends. But when it's that time of year again my ideas change and with depression no sunshine can save me. I realize now that these feelings may be a part of post-traumatic stress disorder and I'm trying my hardest to get past the negativity that follows this beloved season.

About four summers ago I woke up with a hangover and as I sat up in bed I realized I had misplaced my cell phone. Around that time I was very much a party goer and I had learned the hard way that drunk texting never gets you anywhere good. So I set upon the mission of finding my cell phone and found it safely hidden in my glove compartment.

I had so many alerts, from missed calls to text messages. As I scrolled through the alerts without opening them I realized that a few were from people I didn't text or talk with on a regular basis. I knew it was odd. I had that feeling. So I opened one from one of my closest friends. His text read, "Alex call me".

I stood outside waiting for him to answer, slowly adjusting my eyes to the bright sun. It was early in the morning but the air was warm, finally, he answered. He wasted time asking me small talk questions about what I was doing and where was I at. Once it was apparent that something wasn't right he kind of just blurted it out, "He's dead". I said sorry and apologized again for not having the right thing to say, I asked if I could call him back later.

Earlier that morning my ex-boyfriend had died. Either from an overdose or suicide. The question won't ever be answered in this lifetime, but either answer is still ugly to me. My ex-boyfriend was 19-years-old when he died, never really becoming an adult. He never had to worry about bills, rent, or the effects from him smoking Marlboro's.

Death is something everyone deals with at least once in their life. Anyone who had experienced such a loss knows how difficult it is to overcome it if that is even possible. I have found my ways to deal with the loss of someone I loved very much but no matter how much time passes the grief I have never really faded.

Now that he has passed more than four years ago his death still haunts my summers. The sunlight stings my eyes more than most, beach trips have me sitting on the sand staring off into the ocean with a blank mind, and the heat gets me more anxious than what I observe is normal. This may be post-traumatic stress disorder, but my ugly summers are all that I have left of his feeling.