Love always manifests first in me as a deep, raging pain that lifts me up and drags me down at every move the other makes. When I'm in love I can't work nor think but can write for hours. With enough focus I can make it fade away or calm it down a bit. Then there's the other kind of love, the one you nurtured over months and years, the burning steel that cooled into an unbreakable armor and shields you from the world around. I don't know which one is preferable.