Love life ramble/rant

I'm asking myself a lot of questions lately. About my health, about the recent changes in my life (I moved to Germany, became single again, found myself enjoying my new job and location, decided to stay), about the changes that led me here, to being 27, single, just striking out on my own in a new country. I am also asking myself questions about love, the past, and the future.

My brother (40) is married and due to become a father. He and his wife met at uni, were together for over a decade, and finally tied the knot a couple of years ago.
My sister (23) is seeing an absolutely brilliant guy.
Me? I make relationships go *phut* by merely being proximate to them. Well, that's how it feels. Let's have a postmortem...

OK, first up is Kerry. We met one night in a London bar, both fairly drunk. I said she looked like trouble, she took a shine to me, we almost went back to hers that very first night. Instead we went on a date that weekend and started seeing each other weekly from thereon out. I was late. A lot.
I think the stumbling block for our relationship was a combination of her living over an hour away by public transport, and me living with my mother. My mother is a lovely person, but the combination of her and my relationships has often proved catastrophic. Not that it was ever all her. Also, I did do some fucking stupid things, like not calling to let her know I'd be an hour late getting to her house for whatever reason.
Kerry broke up with me after I moved to Munich. Can't say I blame her.

Next up is Kisha. Oh Jesus. We met online via a dating site. The best thing about Kisha was that she was a rampant fuck machine. The worst thing about Kisha was that she was a rampant fuck machine. She lived near Philadelphia. This was realistically never going to work without someon relocating 3,000 miles across the Atlantic away from family, friends and all things familiar.
I dumped her, effectively for not having a passport or a better job than scooping frozen yoghurt at TCBY (OK, so she was a manager, but that was still effectively scooping fro-yo and then hearding the other scoopers). I think she half deserved it, for reasons I shan't divulge.

And now, the main event... *drumroll* Laila. We met online (before Kisha. There's a chronology here) via the same dating site I would later meet Kisha on. This is the relationship of relationships, people. We're talking Troilus and Cressida, Romeo and Juliet, the main kid off The Wonder Years and the total babe he was masturbating over... Errr... Strike that last.
Everything about Laila was perfect for me, and I nearly torpedoed the whole thing on our first date. She lives in a different part of Germany than I moved to, so I travelled over from London (the lead-up to this also almost put paid to this relationship. Partially financial hitches of being a student, partially maternal meddling) on the coach (comedy of errors when I missed my stop and had to take the train back). Skip to after we've made love for the first time (I can still remember the key sensations of making love with her), and she asks me a question, to which I answered "yes". I won't go into it any further than that, but let's just say I'm a fucking clod and incredibly lucky she didn't dump me right then and there. In fact, there are several points in our relationship where you could say the same thing. I shan't pick them over. However, the key facts are these: Laila has never been topped by any other girlfriend. Even the things about her I didn't like or agree with were special to me.
I hope this means it was true love, and not infatuation. Especially not since I can't get her out of my mind. Especially not since I saw her again recently, and what I thought I might feel a little bit of ended up surging, swelling and bursting the flood barriers.

I just hope she feels enough of the same to give me another chance. I'd like to think I'm a better person now than I was then (not that I was bad, but I was certainly rough-hewn and unfinished).