An acquaintance of mine went out of her way to welcome me back, after my absence of some weeks. She gave me repeated hugs and asked about my adventures.
In parting, she said that she loves me. She says that often, when I see her. I have seen her use it with other people, so I think she is using a different definition of the word than I use, a much more watered-down version of it. But what if she is not? What if she places the same importance on the word that I do? Doubtful.
It doesn’t matter, in the end. I am committed, sworn to fealty. If I was not, I would be tempted to explore what she means by the word “love.” As it is, I cannot, must not, will not.
It will remain an academic question, to be pondered in idle moments for a few days, until I forget about it.