There are feelings in the room, including love, that seem too precious to express or might be transformed by hearing them. I can feel the heat in the room but I don't need to go check the furnace to see if it's on.

I have felt love towards him in the room, and I have felt love from him. Not necessarily at the same time. This kind of love feels exquisitely delicate, in the sense that it does not announce itself or demand recognition, which happens for me in the world outside therapy, particularly with my teenager and friends. So the love seems non-romantic, with the occasional exception.