Love ya vs. I love you

by | Mar 13, 2024 | All, Blog, Chip, Married Life, Stories | 0 comments

Our world would greatly benefit from more expressions of love, be it casual or intense, through text messages, phone calls, or hugs. Consider the number of times you have the privilege of hearing someone say a variation of ‘love’ each day. This affection, love, is not only shared by friends, family, and loved ones but also by visitors to social media pages, who often use the heart emoji, perhaps haphazardly, to convey their feelings. Have you ever pondered the profound effect that these simple words, or their absence, can have on an individual’s life? I have.

The difference between Love Ya and (I) Love You.

I’ve observed that the more concise and casual form is increasingly popular. “Love ya” serves multiple purposes: a parting greeting, an answer to a question, or a way to show fondness and affection. This phrase effortlessly communicates warmth and care, avoiding the deep emotional commitment typically implied by prefacing it with the simple pronoun “I.” I love a good love ya now and then!

“Love ya” is often said when affection is present, yet it falls short of embodying true love. True love, you might ask. Indeed, that is the kind of profound, challenging, and occasionally complicated love. It encompasses relationships both among friends and with that special someone.

But ‘I love you’ stands apart. This phrase is reserved for someone extraordinary and arouses profound emotion, perhaps even a heart flutter or flush. Experiencing these words is among the most exquisite joys in life. Uttering them might cause a catch in your breath or tremble in your voice, recognizing the significant weight and impact of the sentiment they convey.

Even when we tell a parent or sibling that we love them, and we mean it deeply, it is not the same love that you feel for that special one.

Why my concern and interest in these two phrases?

You may be wondering why this topic came to mind.  While I am truly blessed to hear variations of “love” every day from my family, friends, gym buddies, barista, and even my OB/GYN (don’t judge), I miss the sound of that one voice that said I love you for 35 years.  The words didn’t matter as much as the way his voice changed when he said it, the smell of his skin near mine, the context in which he said it… and the feel of him close.  I miss that.

I remember the first time I told Chip I loved him and where we were when I heard those words in return from him. Look, truth be told, marriage is a challenge. Were there days when I am 100% sure I drove him crazy amidst homicidal thoughts and maybe even got a love ya instead of the full version? Yes, but the deep connection and feeling never changed.  I knew he loved me, even if I never heard the words again.

So, here I sit, 972 days in a desert without the sound of his voice, the smell of his skin near mine, the context in which he said I love you… and the feel of him close.  While warm, loving, and quite a sloppy kisser, Miss Tillie is no replacement. The last time I said I love you to him, I received no response. But I know he heard me as the last voice saying, I love you, again, for the 11,625 days we were together. Yes, I count days because they anchor me and bear witness to the time I lived with him and the time I have lived so far without him.

Love is a gift.

My intent, in this blog, and others like it,  is not to attract condolences or pity. I write these thoughts so I never lose them so that if one day I cannot remember, I can read my words and conjure up those deep and familiar thoughts and feelings. My wish is that one day, when I am long gone, and one of my grandchildren or great-grandchildren is wearing my engagement ring or earrings, they will know us, the heart and soul of the man who gave me those gifts, and the love that existed between us. They are not pieces of jewelry, nor are these just words on a page; they are witness to the love and the life I shared with Chip.


You May Also Like


Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

About Me

KarenHello and welcome.
I am often asked, “What is Pasta on the Floor?”
Pasta on the Floor is different for everyone. It is a recipe that tells a story and inspires them to try something new. For others, stories of family, joy, loss, and hope engage with them. This brings me a great deal of happiness. I do not take myself too seriously, so be forewarned the subject matter is open and truthful. In many ways, Pasta is a tale of life, and I think you will find familiarity and commonality as you scroll through these pages.

Read More

Recent Photos