It wasn't romantic love. Though,  I think the fundamental nature of this love came from the intimacy in our once romantic relationship. Last night burned with raw love. Not love as in lust, not the kind that’s arrogant or fleeting. This was the totally exposed, deep in your soul, dirty kind of love. It's the way he looks at me, the way he leans in close when he wants me to hear him. The way he grabs me to dance when no one else is dancing, whirling me around, so proud to have me in his life in the way he does. As though no one could take me away from him. It's love fueled by unequivocal respect and acceptance without the pressing need for understanding. The electricity. The already fallen. It's when there's nothing left to wonder. 
We weren't falling in love, we were feeling its bliss and power.