But we loved with a love that was more than love
– I and my Annabel Lee. (Edgar Allan Poe)

There are many kinds of love. There is erotic love, self love, religious love, there is love of the neighbour, love of a friend, love of a sibling, of an offspring, of a parent, love of a teacher and love of a pupil, love of a patient and love of a therapist, love of an admired figure and of a stranger, as well as love of an animal, a group, an idea, a place, an occupation. The name is one, but each of these kinds activates different powers within the psyche and satisfies different needs. Love embodies one of the biggest confusions of language. “The Eskimos had fifty-two names for snow because it was important to them”, wrote Margaret Atwood, “there ought to be as many for love.”

In order to diminish that great linguistic confusion pertaining to love, I suggest stressing the difference between the complete, pure, ideal love, the love that is “more than love,” and all other loves. The distinction between “love” and “Love” could have been used, but when the word appears at the beginning of a sentence this possibility is lost. Instead, I offer to double the first letter. The twin ‘l’ looks like 1+1, who together create 1.

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