Love...?

I cannot write about love, because I'm still a child.
Love seems to be the treasure of adults, those confused about what it means or what it should.
Mankind rules over so many things, too many other species. But we don't rule over ourselves and we are too far from understanding why.
I cannot talk about love, because I let it slip through my hands too many times thinking it had a name, and a face. But love is not a person, love is not a place.
So what does it mean for it to be a feeling? Maybe it's only a starting point for something.
But it can't be the reason why I cry or the energy to move my legs towards someone.
They say love fits no reasoning but in my own child's mind love makes sense.
It makes sense because for me love is basically one of the first signs of respect. You can't love what you don't respect and I have seen in my few years here what happens when you lose respect for someone, or some thing. So maybe love is the product of respect and admiration which combined turns into wanting and then into fuel to continue respecting and admiring something or someone, in a self-sufficient cycle of existence.
But I can't write about love, because I still hurt mistaking it for something eternal, but only because I still have faces attached to my memories of loving.
Love is not a thing, it's not a feeling. I don't know what it is.