What is Love?

I was in seventh grade, an awkward time of life, when I met a boy who would become my first boyfriend. Under the influence of alcohol, I thought he was a gem. He seemed so sweet, so caring, so nice, so thoughtful, so Prince Charming perfect that I allowed these misperceptions to guide my feet toward him.
It's here that I feel I should take a brief pause in this story. I was a middle school student, envious of all of the emerging relationships surrounding me at that time. I was awkward, embarrassed of all the changes suddenly occurring to my body. I was a troubled, innocent girl with a deep desire for the "love" I saw everywhere I looked. After growing up with stories of Disney princesses finding "the one" upon first eye contact, I was brainwashed into thinking this is how love occurs. Granted, I didn't consider my young adolescence and its factor in this but, regardless, I was on a mission to pursue this perfect love story.
Let's resume, back to the high school party I was at. Yes, I was a seventh grader at a high school party, never mind that fact. Anyway, we approached each other and within seconds, I had accomplished my first kiss. Looking back, it's not that I regret the quick step of my first kiss. At the time, I was on Cloud 9, feeling invincible. My shy personality was overshadowed by the liquor and I was in love. I felt so head over heels for someone that it wasn't until he pulled away that my brief fantasy ended. "What's your name, sweetie?"
Sweetie? That's something my mother would call me. Still believing this love story, I smiled and told him, "Sarah." He told me his name was Kyle. I spent the remainder of the crazy night right by his side, following him around, proud to have my arm linked with his. Envious girls turned and displayed faces of disgust that this perfect, charming man was now taken.
This love story soon faded in reality, although I, myself, didn't realize it had. We were exclusive, or so he told me. I remained faithful, somewhat like a puppy dog obeying his every command. This is how it worked, right? This is what love is, right? He would go off with his friends, but I would stay at home. Kyle explained that it was disrespectful of me to hang out with my friends, particularly of the opposite sex. Yet, I never dared to question who he was hanging out with.
My best friend, Alexis, and her boyfriend of the time would come out with Kyle and me on a regular basis. I felt so much more older, more mature, more respected by random strangers when the four of us would go out on double dates or to parties. It was like my love story would never end. Little did I know, Alexis would surely play a part in destroying this peaceful lie I was living.
What is love?
Is it this fantasy I was living or was it something more? Upon the first time I had ever seen Kyle, surrounded by girls of all ages but all similarly beautiful, I should have seen the red flags being thrown in the air, warning me to walk away. I was captivated. This curiosity brought me to walk directly up to this god-like man. Is this how it happens, love I mean? Does it come randomly, quickly, granting you confidence to walk up but making you self-conscious the longer you're in it? What is love?