What is this?

This continuum of thoughts, of you, of you and me
The lack of equilibrium, the lack of sanity
Unsettled, unnerved by every little abandonment
Frenzied by thought of a look, of a touch

Explain this enchantment to me
Tell me how a stranger it has been
Fear, my best friend with benefits
Tells me to shake it off, to not believe

And all this because they asked me about writing
I talked of places it takes me, places beautiful
And somewhere amidst those places deep within
I chanced upon a sapling growing, of you, of you and me

Now that I have it, I know where it dwells
What do I do with it, what do I call it?
You seem to have answers to so many things,
that I can't help but look to you to help give it a name…

What is this?