Love and Subjectivity Through Language — Between “I love you” and “Je t’aime” —

Lately, as I’ve begun writing in multiple languages,

I’ve noticed something fascinating:

the very structure of language shapes how we love—and how we feel.

English Love: The Possession of “I”

In English, the subject I always stands at the front.

I think.

I feel.

I love you.

The subject is clear; the self takes responsibility.

Even love itself becomes the possession of “I.”

But Japanese has no such anchor.

“好き (suki),” “愛してる (aishiteru)” — they work without a subject.

Nobody asks who loves.

Feelings simply float into the air, detached from ownership.

It’s as if love, in Japanese, exists without a self.

French Love Is a Kind of Prayer

In French, Je t’aime is grammatically simple,

yet it carries a kind of sacred gravity.

The je is the same as I,

but it doesn’t demand attention the way English does.

Je t’aime feels like a whisper of devotion—closed, private, reverent.

When you say I love you in English,

the strongest sound isn’t love—it’s I.

That I doesn’t just feel; it acts and owns.

So within I love you lives both freedom and possession.

But in Je t’aime, the je fades softly,

and t’aime lingers like breath.

The sound alone already reveals the direction of love—

not outward, but toward the other.

Modifiers Cool the Flame

Curiously, when you say Je t’aime beaucoup,

the intensity drops.

It no longer means “I love you,”

but “I like you as a friend.”

The moment you add beaucoup (“a lot”),

love becomes something measurable.

In French, that one word turns poetic passion into social politeness.

Even love becomes a thing that can be weighed.

Modifiers cool the flame.

“Love you so much” is less sincere than simply “I love you.”

The strongest loves are often the simplest ones—

pared down, unadorned, and real.

The Grammar of Love

Each language carries its own philosophy of affection.

• English love is possession.

• Japanese love is assimilation.

• French love is faith.

In English, love is a verb—an action that requires agency.

In Japanese, aishiteru is a state of emotion where the subject dissolves.

In French, Je t’aime is not an act but a confession of existence.

That’s why I love you can be casual,

but Je t’aime feels ceremonial—like a vow.

The Grammar of Silence

Perhaps love is the one verb without grammar.

The more we explain it, the less true it becomes.

Maybe Je t’aime is beautiful

because it has the courage to add nothing.

Within that restraint,

the self and the other simply stand together—quiet, equal, and present.

That might be the most faithful way to say “I love you.”