Art MIght Imitate Life, But Does Love?

I know millions have debated whether or not art imitates life or vice versa. People have wasted innumerable wasted hours on mundane cliches like this and posited equally fradulent statements about the meaning of life.

I do not want to judge these people but I will. They are morons. I am not.

What I am about to examine is something far more specific-- whether or not love imitates art, or art imitates love.

For instance, the first time a man chased a woman in an airport as she was boarding her flight (pre 9-11) to stop her from leaving and that he loves her and such. Did this actually happen? Did that first scriptwriter or director actually witness this or were they told this by someone else? Or did they make it up because it sounded good?

See here's the problem, I can give you a million more examples of this type of archetypal scene permeating our subconscious- though I would rather have a lobotomy.

So here is the thing thats killing me-- I really have no idea what love is or what it should look like. I understand that you should not have a predetermined ideal inscribed in your mind (or heart), but I don't know how I would know if I was. But I havent.

So that being said, leet me be clear-- I can safely say I have never been in love. I was once told being in Love is like China-- you know its there (even though its around the world and you have probably never been there) but rely on pictures, stories from travelers, stories, articles, atlas' etc.