The poetics of platonic love

& seven love songs that aren't

Hello, my loves.

I wrote you a poem:

Roses are red, violets are blue,
Kinda feels like I’m insulting your intelligence by implying you don’t know your colors.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

I have an odd history with Valentine’s Day.

It tends to come precisely when something very un-Valentiney is happening, like funerals or first dates or my mother’s emergency heart surgery (ok, the ‘heart’ part is kinda Valentiney).

But then, maybe these do fit the bill.

I have fond memories of watching Frasier until the wee hours, in the hospital room with my mom.

And of a month after my grandfather’s funeral, when my phone generated a chirpy summary video from the very somber family photos. It label it “just hanging out!”

I even have fond memories of the Valentine’s Day first dates that didn’t work out. Like the one who took me “football-bowling,” miraculously combining two of my very worst skills.

The point is, Valentine’s Day doesn’t always land on ‘photogenic.’ Sometimes it lands on the blurry, close-eyed moments of the in-between.

This wouldn’t be so bad, except we tend to treat the day like a celebration of a love story that’s final — a ‘happily ever after.’ Realistically, love is always evolving, and it takes on many forms. Loss & growth & friendships & cities & everything in between.

Dare me to prove those forms are just as powerful? Either way, I’m about to.

The greatest love song that isn’t one.

When you hear “I will always love you,” you probably imagine the powerhouse belt of Whitney Houston. But she didn’t write the song—Dolly Parton did. And it wasn’t a love song at all.

As the story goes, it was the seventies, and Dolly had been singing on the show of her mentor, Porter Wagoner. Her first gig. But after five years, she was ready to go out on her own, and he wasn’t willing to let her.

A lot of arguing ensued (he was aggressive), and Dolly decided to do what she did best: to write about it. The next day, she went in and sang him “I Will Always Love You,” and he cried. He told her he’d let her go on one condition: that she let him produce it. Because it was the best song she’d ever written.

In Dolly’s version of the song, the final verse isn’t sung but spoken. You can hear the soft blanket of (platonic) love landing when she says:

I hope life treats you kind. And I hope you have all you’ve dreamed of.
And I wish you joy and happiness. But above all of this, I wish you love.

To me, it’s always served as a reminder not to overlook the other kinds of love. For a friend, a parent, a place, yourself.

(If you want to hear more on this story, this podcast is the best.)

A Valentine’s Playlist: other kinds of love.

So with that, a playlist of some of my favorite love songs that aren’t. You can listen here.

For when ‘love’ means leaving your hometown…

“Irish Goodbye,” Sammy Copley

By god, I’d love to love it here. The only home I’ve known. And sure, I’d miss the evening mist and glistening cobblestone. But it gets late at ten to eight and leaving’s in my bones.

For when ‘love’ means being your own company…

“Driving Myself Home,” Rose Betts

My friend set me up on a date today, and I forced myself to go. But the best part of the date today was driving myself home. I rolled down all the windows and I played a song I know. Oh, the best part of the date today was driving myself home.

For when ‘love’ means friendship…

“Walden Pond,” Atta Boy

I hope you spend your days writing verses on your page. May your life be a Walden Pond swim.

For when ‘love’ means family…

“Family and Friends,” Family and Friends

I keep losing sight of the better things. My friends, my family. Your love the light, my heart the seed. My love, it grows. My love grows.

For when ‘love’ means letting go…

“Heart of the Matter,” Don Henley

I’ve been trying to get down to the heart of the matter. My will gets weak and my thoughts seem to scatter, but I think it’s about forgiveness. Even if you don’t love me anymore.

For when ‘love’ means being grateful…

“Honest Song,” Noah Gundersen

As we gather round the table to say a prayer for those we love, all the words that will be spoken will never be enough to encompass all the feelings that our brittle hearts can bear. All the storms that rage inside us, fill our organs up with air. And the sound it makes is an honest song. Our hearts sing an honest song.

Happy Valentine’s Day, my loves 🫀

(What’s that? Why yes, it is an anatomically correct heart emoji, thank you for asking. I’d like to propose we make it a thing.)

🐱
Emma