Should we really break up?

I met him on Grindr, but I didn't want a one-night stand, honest. I just wanted to give it a shot and see what stuff could turn into. Plus, this guy seemed hot and deep down I wanted to somehow refute a cousin of mine, who said hot guys were out of her league and that's why her list of SO's wasn't precisely good-looking fellas. So at first that was my initial objective. It turned out I could do it: after the first date we kept on chatting, talking, hanging out until our first kiss was his initiative. A couple of days later we held hands -- it was the first time I ever held another man's hand, and I made sure he knew that, among all the other first times he meant to me. We kissed passionately in malls, traveled distances, made sweet love, held each other at night... We both got jobs. It was harder and harder to meet. Yet we managed and every weekend was sacred for us. I'd go wait every Saturday in front of his office so at 21h I could surprise him and be with him on his way home. He's kinda young so he couldn't spend the night at my place whenever we both wanted. It was complicated, his family and stuff. But I wanted to be with him. Last week he told me he told his parents he'd go to a friend's so he could stay with me, all night long. I was thrilled. But we also fought. And when I get too pissed of I turn kinda violent: I yell, I hit things... And that happened just yesterday. I promised I'd be at the movies at a certain time after work. He got there first, he called me to ask if I was on my way, I told him I was and that I was going (on my bike) as fast as I could. I nearly got hit by a pickup truck. I told him so as soon as we finally met; he just asked what took me so long, if it took me forever to park a bike. I got mad and quit talking. He did too. We got into the theater. All couples were together laughing merrily and hugging, everyone but us. I wanted to leave. It was too uncomfortable a feeling to stay. I finally left. He didn't: did he care?, why is he mad in the first place?, why should I always be chasing after him? He got out and walked passed me. I took him from his backpack. He shouted and told me to stay away. He shouted good. The police in the mall got closer. It was all a mess. I was pissed off. Why didn't he care about the way I felt? I picked my bike from the parking lot. He was waiting for the bus. He saw me and approached me: "If I'm such a douche, you shouldn't probably be with me any longer". Why was he trying to break up? That's a petty excuse. I grabbed him from the collar. I wanted to know what was on his mind. He wanted me to let go of him. It was getting late and every passer-by was looking at us. "Let go off me!" he continuously yelled. I got mad: I cried out even louder in front of his face asking why on earth he wanted to just be done with all this after such petty fight over nothing. I got dizzy and sick. I didn't know if he cared about me anymore. I don't get gifts from him, I don't feel special even if he says so, and I told him all this. I also told him I was hurt because he once told he that if I ever go abroad for a Master's degree, he'd probably look for another guy because he can't stand being on his own. Is he really in love with me or does he just want someone to be with during this time of his life? What am I, then? I'd liked him not just because of his looks, but also because he was young and, naively I thought and continue thinking, because he's heart is not corrupted: by being young he's not like older men I'd had the chance to be with who just wanted sex. He wanted a family, a condo for both of us, a dog, a company -- we talked a lot about that; I even started to officially save for real estate. But we were there, I crying, he looking at me. Word after word and I told him I basically turned the planet upside down for him. "Do you love me?" I asked. "I do, but my reason wonders if it's a good idea to stay with such an irascible person." I can't recall anymore what else I said so he ended up saying that in spite of everything he wanted to keep on. We were about to take his bus, then we kinda fought again. He got on and left. I went home too. I couldn't sleep. I don't know if we are still a couple or not. I called him just now and told him I needed to see him so bad. He picked up and said he couldn't -- he came up with some excuse. I cried another thousand tears. Just last Saturday I'd cried. We'd been all day long and he cooked for me. I took him home and then got back to my place, a place that then got lonely and devoid of his existence: his laughter, his singing, his warmth, his hugs... I cried because his empty plate from lunch was still lying on the table and tormenting me. I had the exact same feeling I had when my sister died: the sensation that someone's been suddenly taken away from you. It hurt so bad. I want to keep on. I ought to work on my wrath. I love him, I truly do.