It was what it was, and it was nothing.

Is it stupid to be heartbroken and devastated over a relationship that never really was? I spent a year and a half getting to know this man... falling in love with him... letting him into my life. We spent tons of time together, though now it seems like it was so much and hardly any and I'm not sure what it really was. I loved him. I had his baby, albeit not intentionally but nonetheless. I have never felt such an intense magnitude of emotion for... anything. Ever. He made my heart feel raw, my soul naked. He brought forth more tears than I imagined possible, more joy than I could have hoped for.

And yet, I was nothing to him and he walked away. I fell apart, a broken jagged mess. More tears came. Thoughts of suicide, dumb as it may seem. I felt worthless, ugly, unlovable. I have only ever wanted to be loved, wanted for more than my body. But it seemed to me like I am asking too much.

Now though, I wonder what exactly I was mourning. I'll tell you what I mourned... A man who got my sense of humor, and who would laugh and joke with me. I mourned the loss of the man I spent a year and a half talking to for hours a day, sharing bits of my soul with. I miss the love that I thought I felt growing and that I longed for. I mourned for the fun, the intimacy, the amazing sex, the nights spent sleeping next to each other. I mourn for the loss of the man who told me he liked how his pillows smelled like me after I'd spent the night and he liked how I'd sneak in to cuddle when we watched movies. I think I'll mourn for the loss of that man until the day I die...

But I've also been mourning the man who took me for granted, strung me along and played with my heart. I was mourning a man who told me I was nothing and never would be anything to him, a man who thought I was good enough to take to bed but not on a date. I mourned for a man who never cared about me, and hurt me many times without the least bit of concern for me.

I came to realize that as much as I missed the first man, I could live without the second man. Unfortunately they were the same person. Maybe the things he said in the good times were lies, maybe the things he says now are lies. Who knows? All I know is that I've finally let him go and it hurts... almost as bad as holding on.