There is no word for the recipient of the love. There is only a word for the giver. There is the assumption that lovers come in pairs.

“Because that's the thing about mean people: They make you think that the world …”

“I want to believe there is a somebody out there just for me. I want to believe …”

“All sorts of yayness floods my brain. Love is such a drug.”

“Such a strange thing, to hold a six-year-old's hand. Especially a six-year-old …”