Just another "What am I" poem

Question

Here's a little poem; try to guess "what I am." I accept every answer as long as the explanation is satisfying.

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You can't touch me as you like

I can be a cushion for your mind

But too often I'm a spike

So I'm not always that kind

Sadly, many try to make use of me

Seeing me as part of their tools -

Oh, they are the biggest fools !

No matter what you do -

In the end, you will be mine

Which is perfectly fine

As long as I am accepted by you

Dramas and songs all centred 'round me

Tons of myths are based on me

A countless amount; a pointless sea.

Nothing of this can describe me

They call me complicated

Few even want me hated

It's hard to prove me wrong

unless you try really strong

Between others, I can't be spotted

Except for them revealing me

I start abruptly

Soon out of control

Misunderstood by the masses

Abused by the few

People call me their friend,

Some even say I was godsend -

But too quickly I come to an end.

Answer 1

You can't touch me as you like

It is not an existing entity

I can be a cushion for your mind

Sometimes it is soft and comforting

But too often I'm a spike

Sometimes prickly and hard

So I'm not always that kind

Sadly, many try to make use of me

Seeing me as part of their tools -

Oh, they are the biggest fools !

There are people who exploit it for their own interests

No matter what you do -

In the end, you will be mine

Everyone experiences it at least once in their lives, even if unconsciously

Which is perfectly fine

As long as I am accepted by you

Dramas and songs all centred 'round me

Tons of myths are based on me

A countless amount; a pointless sea.

Nothing of this can describe me

It is not an emotion that can be defined until it is experienced by ourselves, but many are trying to convert it into written words

They call me complicated

Few even want me hated

Those who do not feel it hate it and feel lonely

It's hard to prove me wrong

unless you try really strong

This is not a mistake, but some try to refute it

Between others, I can't be spotted

Except for them revealing me

I start abruptly

Soon out of control

It begins subconsciously and slowly moves to conscious and then it is difficult to control it

Misunderstood by the masses

Abused by the few

People call me their friend,

Some even say I was godsend -

But too quickly I come to an end.

Some enjoy it and some erroneously think it is not good, but in any case it ends quickly

I think the answer is:

Love