It was fleeting and faltering, like a wisp of wind it slipped clumsily out of my fingers. 

I guess I can't derive a definition of love, but indeed it felt something like this:

Love is a wily one, it plays on your heartstrings stealthily, then crescendoing into a whirlwind of emotions. A wild flurry of raw emotions surges at the chest, like flowers they bloom and fade, and again. 

Love is like an affliction. It merges the sane and insane, it induces emotions in logic, it blurs the lines between. 

Love is like a drug, it makes one yearn only for more.

She was elusive, she was mysterious, she was nonchalant. Her aim was to disappear amidst the crowd, silent and unnoticed. She intended to fade away, like a flower would after full bloom, to be remembered for its beauty and not its eventual death. 

Her purposeful inconspicuousness made her difficult to not observe her light footsteps - the way she glided along the ground as if she was as light as a helium balloon. She appeared to have transcended from somewhere else, she appeared to lack physical existence.