Love

  Over dinner, I stared into her eyes. Cold, emotionless. She stared back for a while, nibbling at her food.

 "We never talk any more." I said. What I meant was that she never talked any more. I still talked.

 "And we don't go out. I don't mind curling up in front of the fire, but we have to go out sometime. We never see anyone any more."

 She said nothing back. I was unsurprised but disappointed.

 "And you only show me affection when you want something. You showed the postman more affection last week."

 Still nothing.

 "And when you go to the toilet in the garden, I'm glad you cover it up, but could you be more careful in future? You dug up all my petunias.

 She meowed back at me.

 I smiled. It was progress.

 "You're a good girl really." I said, patting her on the head. "I just wish you wouldn't scratch the furniture."

It turns out...

I'm not in love, I just have an inner ear infection.

Love

Love is, at best, an abstract idea, and rather hard to describe. However, to the right is a visualization of the whole thing.
Love is, as we imagine, a crudely drawn cardboard box, while the jumble of related feelings are represented by the white background. Click on the box to watch as young Henry falls, tragically, out of love.

Much like the real thing, visual representations of love don't have to make sense.
Nor need they be well created.