Could this be love?

Often I wonder what differentiates love from lust.

How do you know these feelings of attraction do not differ from reality and they aren't just figments of a very vivid imagination?

How do you know you are in love?

Is it when you do not indulge in merely speaking of promises of an eternity that you may never hold in your grasps or filling someones mind with incoherent babbling of something that may never come.
No, no. Is love not when you seek to immortalize this treacherous person who has captured your heart in ways no one else has even tried to do so before? Is it as if you want to turn this person in to a work of art or a fictitious character so beautifully painted that people may doubt its existence.? Or is it to decorate them in such a way that no average person can perceive the beauty that you feel and those feelings are yours and only yours to keep?

Maybe it is love when you want to turn this person in to a piece of literature with passion oozing from the very confines that bind your words. As if you feel so strongly about this person that you keep the stories about them a secret from the world in fear that someone else might fall in love with that which you find so sacred, that which you want only for yourself.

Can it be that if you truly love someone, it isn't about holding on to them for the moment but rather etching them into the solitary, vacant areas of your heart not just for today but for as long as the blood rushes through your veins?

Could it be, love isn't the romanticism of forever but rather the will, the passion to never forget.

Could this be love?