Sleepless in Brighton

This is the title of the original post which is on my desktop at the moment. I wrote it last night, at 3 o'clock, after waking up in tears. I am not happy.
I am scared and confused, and for the past 5 hours I have cried, almost everywhere: on the beach, where two guys stopped to ask me if I was ok, in the street, at the bus stop, on the bus (while three punks wearing their low-waist trousers and nothing else played loud music and swore on the phone and to each other), on the way to the IT centre, in the IT centre as I was emailing a friend from the TESOL course.
I am so scared, people. And confused.
How can somebody go from the sweetest of messages, the most recent being on Monday night at 23.28, which said "thanks for being so wonderful***LOVELOVELOVE***" to talking nonsense about being in love, trying to rationalise feelings, trying to reconcile expectations (yes, we all wish we were married to George Clooney, but can we?) and stuff. In the end, I asked him if we are together. He said yes. Two months on Saturday. People, two months! Two months is nothing! And he is already worried about the future, about being able to provide for a family, about so many unreal things, he is only 25 for God's sake! And yes, the age thing came out one more time...then again, he could see the point of...no point about it!
I am trying to be positive about it, I really am. But my only thought is that this is the end, and I am here, in Brighton, alone. My friends at home are not my friends anymore, it's been like this for a while now, they all have their boyfriends, their lives, I am nothing. I cannot go back. I am not regretting moving here, and the fact that I could find a job two days after arriving proves that I was right. But Ian. My wonderful, sweet, caring boy.
He needs time to adjust to this new Brighton life, and he misses his family, and South Africa, and he is thinking about his phd, and he is looking for a room, and he would like to dedicate more time to his teaching job...I am trying to give him more time, because I see that he needs to be by himself a while.
But I don't understand. I am so confused.
I am so scared.
This is a hard time again, I am tired. I am also trying to find a room to move, but not being a student is a bad thing in this city apparently, nobody wants to give you a room. And I spend my days wandering around the town, thinking that in my current room I don't even have a light bulb, and I cannot cook, the kitchen is untidy and dirty, and I have to walk miles on a top hill, in the dark. I don't mind walking on the top of a hill, but...you see what I mean.
Anyway. I am checking for hotels now, because after all some are just as expensive, and at least you get clean sheets every day. I'll give myself time until the end of the week, and then if I haven't found a room, I will book one in a hotel...at least I will feel like some bohemian writer...