It is a depressing time for lots of people right now. Summer is coming to an end, school is just beginning, and the balmy sun will almost surely turn to snowy, freezing weather in just a short few months.

But my depression has less to do with any of that and more to do with what I have come to figure out is the end of an era, a saying goodbye to some good friends.

That’s right — the last season of “Sex and the City” is upon us. And for me, it’s like realizing a hot relationship is about to come to a screeching halt.

I, along with thousands of my fellow Americans, have been watching “Sex and the City” since its big premiere in the late ’90s, when I still had access to the joys of cable. Personally, I was hooked from the beginning.

Since that first season, I’ve been an avid watcher whenever the chance arose. When I missed out on a season and a half due to a lack of HBO, I spent a delightful Saturday watching all the episodes I missed and catching up (for six hours).

So imagine my dismay when I learned that this sixth season would be the last for the revolutionary series. No more unseen seasons to laze the day away with, no more new boyfriends and bad dates to relate to, and no more Samantha, Miranda, Charlotte and Carrie to keep me company when I’m bored.

Luckily, my parents still have HBO, so my mom was given the all-important task of taping the first six episodes of the last season for me (the last six episodes will air in January). With mega-tape in hand, I ventured off to my “Sex and the City” buddy’s house (who shall remain nameless, for male-ego preservation) on a recent Sunday morning to get a head start on this final season.

Although it was good to have a fresh batch of the show to enjoy, there were a few surprises thrown our way. Surprise No. 1: the rate at which Carrie’s ex-boyfriends are being cut off of the series is too fast. Aidan appears and then is gone forever after the first episode, and the still-unnamed Mr. Big follows suit in a subsequent episode. With all that these men have meant to Carrie during the previous five seasons, it seems a bad decision to write them out so far from the end. Perhaps I’m wrong on this, though, and they’ll both make appearances later on.

A second surprise is the relative predictability of the season so far. Without revealing too much, for the sake of those who might still be waiting to watch, every character seems to pick up where she left off at the end of the fifth season, moving on her course as one would have predicted.

Despite these surprises, however, the first half of the last season just stoked my appetite for the second half. And though I don’t normally get attached to television shows, this one has stuck with me for several reasons.

First, I can relate to something in each of the characters. Whether it’s Carrie’s passion for writing, Miranda’s ability to complicate the simplest situation, Charlotte’s fear of trying new things, or Samantha’s spunky, butt-kicking attitude, it seems like any viewer could find at least something he or she recognizes in the show.

And it’s not only girls who can benefit from the helpful relationship insights offered by “Sex and the City.” Although it seems unlikely that many guys will admit to watching and — gasp! — liking the show, there’s a good chance that there are a lot you out there, and even more of you who could stand to watch, if nothing else at least for a valuable glimpse into the female side of sex and relationships.

But perhaps the most engaging aspect of the HBO series is its ability to suck you in and never let you go. If you watch the first season, it’s very likely that you’ll wind up at the video store again the next day to start in on Season Two. You’ll laugh with the girls, cry with them, cheer for them, and wonder what the hell they’re thinking.

So next time you have a lazy, hot Saturday afternoon with nothing to do, check out an episode or ten of the girls in the City. And don’t worry, guys — we won’t tell.