Early in life we learn what it means to like someone. When we’re wee toddlers, we call it friendship. Later we learn we sometimes like people as more than friends. We call this love - or, more often, some watered down derivative.

For the first few months after we stumble into romantic bliss, or perhaps longer - think cafeteria lunches with your crush sitting at the end of the table - we may confuse friendship and love. We love to hang out with both friends and lovers. We want to share secrets with them. Both excite us - but in different ways. Soon, either through trial or heartache, we learn not to mistake these two concepts as synonyms. Friendship may be given without caution or preamble. Love, or similar affection, is far less awarded and comes packed with nuance and people’s ghosts, demons, and spite (my own especially).