I have no clue... but I'll pretend I do

(I just re-read this and decided that only the last paragraph has any substance... if you choose to read only part of this... read that part)
After work last night I was wired. So instead of driving home, I walked on the beach.  It's so cliche, but as I walked I wondered about love.   Why it hurts and also lifts, why it makes us so crazy at times, how so many people are looking for it without finding it, why sometimes when we do find it that it turns out to be so fleeting at best and counterfeit at worst... But mostly, I just wondered what it is exactly.
I have to say, I didn't really come up with much... until the sun came up.  When it did, I realized that my daughters would be waking up soon.  I wanted mine to be the first face that they saw.  I thought, this is love, real, unquestionable, lasting.  Though I still have no specific verbiage to define it, I am certain of the feeling of love, what it motivates me to do, and who I feel it for.  Then I thought well DUH... but that's kind of a copout on my introspection... that's obvious and easy... I still don't know what it really is.  And what about the different type of love, and the distinction of being in love...  
My thoughts began to yield more questions than answers at this point.  Two remain:  Is the only difference between familial love and romantic love, the addition of physical attraction? And is it possible that the way we categorize love, or the way we decide to speak of it, is just another way to separate ourselves from others, a way to categorize those around us to some degree.  (ie. I like you, but I don't love you... or I love you, but I'm not in love with you)
Yesterday I had a conversation with my ex girlfriend in which she told me that she is still in love with me.  I told her some approximation of I love you, I'm just not in love with you. I once was in love with her... what is the difference between what I felt then, and what I feel now.  I decided that sometimes it's a choice.  I do still love her, but there is a healthy dose of reservation, and caution, and hesitation built in to the kind of love I have for her, based on my overriding desire not to be hurt by her.  So maybe that's it, I've just chosen this feeling for her, over another that I used to have, as a means of separation, mentally (emotionally) placing her in a category that I can keep at arms length. safe. easy. comfortable.... terribly unfulfilling.
Now I feel like I'm rambling.  My self analysis begins to annoy me. My introspection has been replaced by psycho-babel... as I read what I have written I feel like a pseudo-intellectual trying out my powers of self examination for the first time and taking some brand new big words for a test drive.  I have overcomplicated something that often lends itself to oversimplification. I do feel, however, that I have some answers that work for me.
It's easy to know about things that we have, and difficult to know about things we don't.  What I have, what is easy to know, is my love for my daughters.  What I don't have, what is hard for me to know, is "romantic" love (and the longer I go without it, the more I question what I thought I knew about it).
In spite of that, here is what I think (intentional word choice) love is:
Love is the feeling that makes me get up and go to work when I don't want to, and the feeling that makes me race home afterwords so that I don't miss anymore time with her.  Love is the feeling that makes me seek her approval, keeps me trying to impress her, and sends chills up my spine when she smiles her approval.  Love is that feeling that makes me forget big words or how to use them when I look at her.  Love is the feeling that no matter how long we are together, no matter how much we say to each other, there will always be more to know, and love is the desire to know all of it.  Love is the feeling that nothing in the world matters more than the next words out of her mouth, and nothing is more desirous than the next kiss from her.  Love is the feeling that goes up my spine when her foot accidentally grazes my calf as we sleep next to each other, or when her hand finds mine in the dark.   Love is waking in the night, remembering who is in bed with me, and hating the two feet of separation between us.  Love is the feeling that we can have fun doing anything or nothing together.  It's the feeling that I would sacrifice almost anything for one more touch, one more chance to do anything... or nothing with her.

... i think.