What's all worth?

And here I am, at the end of yet another failed relationship, one which I truly believed would last, in the moments of self doubt and loneliness asking: What's it all worth?

I question everything. I question him, I question myself and all the choices I've ever made. And I wonder, if there is such a thing as fate: Have all the mistakes I've ever done been written somewhere? Am I suppose to pendle between pleasure and pain for a while that is already determined and there is no possibility to do differently? Are we that programmed? That predetermined?

Your brain tells you it was a good choice, your heart tells you, you are a fool. The only thing you have left besides all the wounds and an experience that you are not sure its worth finishing that way. But how do you give proper value for an experience no one, not even yourself, can account for? Where is the limit you have to put between dignity and matters of the heart?

I just know one thing at this point. He has left a huge space. I wish he was here. And the biggest question of all: Is this place home without him?