A bit of pedantry here: What we call love is often only infatuation. And sometimes the distinction is confusing. A song I wrote kind of typifies this idea:

Ten Thousand Tomorrows

Long ago you were all the world to me
From here to horizon, far as I could see
But time- it moved on, leaving you behind
Ten thousand tomorrows you've been out of my mind.
      Once I really loved you. I loved you a lot
      Once I really loved you. Why have I forgot?

Forgotten the way you sat in a chair
Forgotten your smile and the scent of your hair
Don't even recall the touch of your hand
Forgotten it all- it's not what I planned.
       Once I really loved you. Just when did I stop?
       Once I really loved you. Why have I forgot?

I open this morning's paper and there is your face
Next to some strangers, each one in its place
Yesterday you died- imagine my shock
Once I really loved you. Why have I forgot?
Once I really loved you...

I submit I didn't really love him.
Eb