Does Love Even Exist

What is love, even? How do you know of you're in it, or falling in it? 

Does it even exist? Or just something created by those desperate to end their loneliness? 

I want him to be here. I want him to hold me and kiss me and talk to me. I want him to hold my hand and trace patterns on my palm and kiss my cheek. I want him to make my laugh and pull me close and never let go. 

What is happening to me? I never used to care, never wanted someone so much, never cared to be close. 

I don't like the feeling of being needy, of being helpless, of being consumed. I don't like craving his lips on mine, his hands in mine, his body over mine. 

It can't be love. 

Only lust. 

Right?