Was it really love

I always wondered if the love was real, if the way he made me feel was just a figment of my imagination. I always wondered if the words that flowed out his mouth like a River of flowing water, running straight into the depth of the ocean at the core of my soul truly held purpose, or were they just empty bottles of promises returning back to shore void, never really meaning to reach its destination. Was it really love, or just a nightmare I’d soon realize I’d never wake up from, always in constant torment of the love I craved but he never willingly gave. Crazy because his words felt as real as the hairs upon my skin when they rise at the instant contact of electricity, shooting through my vains creating a strong sensation that never truly goes away… Was it really love? Was his love Fareal, or did I create it because I never really knew what love is. Was it really love?