My fault, my failure, is not in the passions I have, but in my lack of control of them

I've felt so much stronger lately. Stronger than I ever thought I was, stronger than I've ever been in the past. It was almost as if it happened over night. Although, I know too well that's not at all how it happened. It happened over countless margaritas and budweisers and way too many sappy country songs. It happened over an immeasurable amount of tears shed and one false hope after the next. I think it happened when I started to get angry. Angry at all the time wasted and effort loss. Angry at every soul I trusted and invested myself in which turned out to be conniving and completely careless. Sure it's possible that it can all be me. Maybe it's my fault because I'm so easy to leave. Maybe it's my fault because my expectations are too high [and include a bit of honesty]. The possible faults that could be mine are endless, but i think i got my strength when I stopped worrying about and evaluating every situation. I think I truly got my strength when I realized that there's no reason why I should ever long to be with anyone who doesn't want to be with me. That's so fucking ridiculous to me now that it's almost funny.
Now don't get me wrong, I'm no better a judge of character. Doesn't seem like that will ever be one of my strong suits. I'm like a child and all a stranger needs is a little candy and I'm hooked. For pete's sake, 12 people can tell me you're nothing more than a snake and I swear I'll call them all liars. But that's beside the point, because as soon as I figure you out I think I've finally got what it takes to just let you fucking go. I can honestly feel the strength grow in my bones every goddamn time my heart and soul get a beating. Everyday I'm getting closer and closer to becoming the person I want to be, the person I was always suppose to be. I've got some really important things to figure out within the next 3 weeks. The fate of the course of my life is resting in my hands and the choice is mine alone. It's going to be interesting.

If I seem to be reckless with myself, it’s the fault of no one

I knew before my head had even hit the pillow last night that I wouldn't be ready to open my eyes come morning. So I shut them really tightly and pleaded with the sun to just give me more time. Instead it came up with vengeance. It pulled up the shade, threw off my covers, and singed me to the core with the harsh reality it brought with it. Then, after patiently waiting as I made bleak attempts to compose myself, it consumed me whole. It told me I was a fuck up with my priorities in all the wrong places. Then it gave me a tissue and said "chin up darling, learn your lessons."
I'm in unfamiliar territory with the road signs all pointing in different directions, but all ultimately ending up in one fantasy destination that seems light years away. I'm so tired of walking: alone, confused, fists clenched from anger, scared out of my mother fucking mind.
I don't want to be a failure. I don't want to ever fail anyone the way I myself have been failed numerous times. In particular, I don't want to fail you.