Messy Love

This isn't love, the mess he's left me in.

That's what Harry said about Dumbledore when Hermione was trying to convince him that Dumbledore loved him. (Yes, I'm re-reading the last book in preparation for the movie)
Each time I read/listen to the book this line just jumps out at me.
Because sometimes I have a hard time understanding love.
Is it love even when you don't feel loved?
To what extent should love be something that translates to you?

I mean, I can say I love someone...but if my actions and other words aren't loving then do I really? Vice versa there are people that have said they love me, but I feel like it's just words. Their actions shout at me that I am worthless and beneath them.

The there's the love language conversation.

Of the countless ways we can show love to one another, five key categories, or five love languages, proved to be universal and comprehensive—everyone has a love language, and we all identify primarily with one of the five love languages: Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, Receiving Gifts, Acts of Service, and Physical Touch

Quality time is huge for me. You can do all sorts of things for me and tell me you love me but when I rank a spot in the way you spend your day I feel loved. So I try to make an effort to spend time with people that I want to know I love them. But what if their love language is something else? Then am I not helping them to see that I love them?
Conversely, I confuse the time people spend with me to be love. Just because they spend time with me doesn't mean they care for me or have my best interests at heart. I've made that mistake more times than I care to admit and it has really jacked up my definition of love.

This all sort of made sense in my head. But I just feel a sense of wonder about this whole love thing. In all aspects of relationships.
We've shown that I'm a black and white girl, and some days the gray fuzziness of love is just a little much for me to wrap my head (and heart) around.