Baby don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me, no more.
Sorry, I had to do it. That song has been perpetually stuck in my head since 1995. To answer the question, I think the one thing that is consistent across all kinds of love, whether it’s romantic love, platonic love, love for a person, love for an animal, love for a food or book or movie, is the idea that if you didn’t love it, whatever it might be, you would feel like something wasn’t right or that something was missing. I love Starbucks. I know, it’s overpriced coffee, and I’m nothing more than media-brainwashed sheeple for drinking it, but I think it’s tasty. If I woke up tomorrow and suddenly hated Starbucks, and the thought of drinking it made me sick, I’d be sad. The same would be true if I no longer loved my pets or my sister or my favorite book.