Relationship postmortem

The guy I turn in to in relationships is an asshole. I hate that guy.
It seems like he's always jealous, overly controlling, pushy, insecure, and complains a lot.

Perhaps that's because I've been getting myself in to unhealthy relationships? Blleehh, maybe I just get bored super fast? Are there deeper underlying problems? Am I over thinking things?
It's interesting the patterns I've started to notice about the girls I am generally attracted to. I wonder if that's because I like those kinds of traits/aspects in girls, because I search for those traits/aspects, or if it's chance...
It's hard for me to believe that it's chance though, 4 or 5 times is difficult to call random...

Thickness

As my hands grow thicker, so does my skin. The figurative type, not the literal one. Those that skin is growing thicker too.
What I mean isn't that I've gotten tougher, not quite. I'd say I've gotten less tough, though more able to withstand pain, solitude, loneliness, and a variety of other self inflicted ailments.
Even though I can stand it, it hurts more, has become slowly more real. Like I've awoken from a dream in which I was dying, on waking I cherish all that is life. The pain, the sorrow, the joy, the happiness, that look in a girl's eye, the smile of a friend, the hateful look of an ex.
Everything has increased in vastness, not to the point of overwhelming force, not yet. This perhaps is my biggest fear, a finite magnitude of emotions, becoming an infinite flood of delusion, ever nearing the breaking point.
People say I have a voice, one that needs expression, I've come to find that true. Every year, every day it becomes truer. Written word as my voice, perhaps? Music as my voice, perhaps? Leadership as my voice, quite possible.
I feel called to do great things, not for myself, but for others. Because I'm selfish and love seeing others do great things, helping others achieve great things. So in my selfishness I can do good, at least that's something.

Self expression is something I suck at, I've noticed I put on this false voice at times. When I write I don't write like I speak. Which is good I suppose as others often have trouble hearing me. As I get older I notice this more and more, my mumbling getting worse. It's so odd, I have this voice, I want to be heard! Yet I don't speak up, I don't lead, I follow. I quietly observe and analyze.
Perhaps it's as simple as I'm losing my hearing, boy that would be a trip, these sign classes being a prediction for something I internally knew would happen... Though that's unlikely, not likely at all.

Emotion, expression, love, hate, what are the differences in these things?
What makes a man love a woman, or another man, or multiple people? What is the catalyst for these reactions? Social class? Group theory? God(s)? Nature? Genetics?
"We have good chemistry" I've heard that one before, part of me wishes it wasn't that simple. Yet in simplicity there is beauty...

Water drop in the morning dew

Life is a thing
It's not good
Nor is it bad.
It just is
Like a water
Drop in the
Morning dew.

Some call it cold,
Others call it beauty,
Still more think
It is without
Meaning,
Purpose,
A way.

Random things I've come to understand

Love is more than a feeling.
Marriage is a life-long trust exercise.
Communication makes or breaks everything.
Material objects are neither important, nor necessary.

The "I want a kiss" look.
That anticipation is half of what makes desire last.
Because most people are not willing to 'take the lead' I have to.
Some people will follow, even though they don't want to.

That I'm better single than in a relationship.
That I have my highs and I have my lows.
That fear controls most people.
That love is an afterthought in people's minds.

Who am I

That's a question
That all need to figure out,
Who am I?

Not where am I from,
Nor who's child am I,
No. The answer sought
Is more visceral.
Precognitive.

Who am I?
Adam, say some
That guy, say others
Tall says most.

Yet how do they not see
These little describers are,
but a small part of me.
Parts of the whole,
for sure,
yet not close to the reality that
makes up me.

--

I want to scream, I want to cry
People around me,
acting like sheep.
Doing as told, living as told
Never thinking
Never dreaming.
How they lost their ideals,
their passions and reactions,
I'll never know.

--
Love is an ideal
Marriage is a reality
Hatred is a nightmare

--

In this life we live
There are no facts, no fortunes.
Only people
People and places
Places with people
How do so many people
Go and see the world
Yet fail to understand
How crucial they are.
Changes they could make
Dreams they could enable
Yet no

The fascinating thing that is life.

Life is great sometimes,
hidden among the shit,
there lies solitude.
Glory.
Peace and freedom.

Odd how one
Turn of events
Changes everything,
For the better,
NO, for the best!

Old ideas be gone,
Freedom from stale,
Misguided, and hateful
Intellectual traps.

Here in the darkness
No sun in site,
Yet there's more light
And more love

Who would have thought?