Again, Shakespeare said what love is:

<header>Sonnet 116</header>

Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove:

O no! it is an ever-fixed mark

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.

Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Within his bending sickle’s compass come:

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error and upon me proved,

I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

Lastly, I want to add that the most fulfilling love is “mature love between two men”, where each man is a whole human being and just wants to be with the other man, not out of neediness, but out of the pure joy of being together.