Dear Melancholy.  Thanks for sharing--it's true that love could take place with an exchange of language through the eyes which speak more than words could.  

Yet, love is a product of chance, less of choice.  At its highest point, it erupts like red-hot lava from a boiling volcano or resembles  the onslaught of an all-sweeping avalanche.  Its ferocity and intensity frightens even the most ardent lovers as passion dispels reason, prudence, moderation and all sensibility.
That's why poets and writers are often saying: die unto love.

It is true that love/*** is stronger than and transcends death.  
Freud was right that love/*** was the driving force of life and that, if interrupted, impeded, inhibited or unfulfilled would lead to neurosis and unhappiness.  

I would like to add that love/*** must have meaning beyond its physicality and emotional manifestation or it might not last.  
Also, too many confuse lust with love but that's another story.  

Love defies definition; ask people what love is and they couldn't find the right words; no person loves in the same way as another;  we can't love ALL the time--there are times that love/*** is laid aside, not because it has faded or died but rather there's a time or season for it and other times, when it doesn't surface; we don't love with the same intensity and love does not demand that either; that love in union borders the mystical is never in doubt--
we are stripped of everything else in the nakedness of our heart and soul and, in that highest moment, we are cleansed, purified, transformed and have the sense we have lived forever in that ecstasy.