Sometimes

As I grow older and wiser I realize how much I do not know love. I know nothing about it. For so long I have made this mistake of expecting or demanding others to love me the way I understand love. I have been confusing myself, because at best I barely get love. It's so mysterious. What I think love is, what I have called love, has left me empty. In reality, that's what hate does--not love. So what is love?