The other kind of love
Love? Which kind of love? We blithely say, “I love my dog”, “I love chocolate”, “I love my partner”, “I love my children”, “I love my job”, “I love that book … that song … that sunset”. We may even hear ourselves saying, “I love your shoes” with the same kind of enthusiasm as when we say, “I will love you forever”, yet no one assumes we mean the same thing in all those cases.
Because “love” is such a carry-all word, it’s open to misinterpretation. The very power of it – the charm of it, the magic of it – creates the potential for all kinds of misunderstandings. “Love you!” we might chirrup, as a lighthearted way of ending a phone call – rather like the affectionate little “x” we might add to a text sent to someone
