One Little Word

If you do not want to know about the world in Lois Lowry's The Giver at this point in time you may want to skip this post.

There is a scene in Lois Lowry's book The Giver where Jonas asks his parents if they love him. They then scold him for using imprecise language, citing the questions "Do you enjoy me?" and "Do you take pride in my accomplishments?" as being more precise and just generally better. The reader, of course, recognizes that the parents do not truly understand love- that the question "Do you love me?" is asking something entirely different, and that the word love is not generalized and meaningless, as his mother describes.

But the word love is, in fact, very generalized. When I say I love my mother, I do not mean the same thing as when I say I love spring. I love my friends, but not the same as I love my sisters. But this has never been a problem for me. The feelings are related, and I get my idea across well. Although my love for spring isn't quite as related as the others.

There is one place, however, where the ambiguity of meaning behind the word love can create a problem. When I get interested in a guy beyond friendship, the word love is no longer one I can use in relation to him. But I usually do love him in some way. I generally don't really like a guy until I already have some of that friendship love built up. It's just that once I think of him in a romantic sense, loving him is tied too much to being in love with him. And I do not want to say that until I'm sure I really am in love.