I love you.
At least, I think I do.
I've never quite been too sure
about this thing called *love
But every time I see you or hear your name,
my heart slows down to a deafening pace,
my cheeks flush with color,
and my mouth softly curves into a smile.
Just being in your presence fills me with zeal
and when you're away, I ache for you so deeply and purely.
When you're unhappy, I too, feel unhappy.

Is this what they call love?
If no, what is it then?
If yes, then I like it.