what do you do with a sober heart at 3 in the afternoon?

"This could be good for you." Like Steel was good for me? No, I'm being serious. Steel was good for me. He knocked out my need for control. Well, my overwhelming need for control; I still want to know what's going on. Pants is very different. He has all the power. He reminds me a little of California. He reminds me of ten years ago.
He has opened up to me. He feels precious to me. I want to be something special to him. I want to be different. He is attracted to me. All of me. Not just my physical appearance. Not like most of the men that won't even glance my way. I am too strong for them? Or do I just appear to be strong?
That has been my worry lately. Pants said, "I like strong, independent women." What if I am neither of those things? Honestly, I want someone that I can see all the time. This is why he could be good for me; I can't get what I want and what I am used to having. I have to be patient. I have to wait.

Pants, like Wizard, distinguishes "love" from "in love." I have a wordless understanding of this. On a base level, I get it. But my brain can't quite comprehend. I have loved so many people. Was I even in love with any of them? I think ex-otter came the closest, and I was too damaged to make it positive. I was too damaged to even realize it until he was gone.
Is that the kind of love you can fall out of? You can fall in it, out of it, etc. Maybe mine is more lasting? "In love" sounds so fickle. I love. I do not "in love." I verb. I am active. Being in love sounds like something that happens to you. Loving is something you do. Is being in love something that can burn you up? Is it that fiery thing that consumes, leaving nothing but ashes once it's over? Is it what starts wars; carries feuds; justifies vengeance; destroys lives? It sounds terrifying to me. I don't know how people even get to that point.
I have loved. I have loved to the point of self-destruction. I've gotten high, and drunk, and cut, and slept, and kept myself awake all night. I've starved, eaten, exercised, and laid around all day. I've cried. I've screamed. I've curled into a ball and sobbed uncontrollably. I've climbed trees and buried my face in the grass. I have loved, and if that is love, then what is being in love?
And why do I want it so badly?

Love seems like something you can choose to do.
Being in love is something that happens. Not passive, just unable to be forced or found by searching.
"Love is what you think it is." The problem is that I'm not sure what I think it is anymore.
Gonna be a long time before I get the chance to know it.