Here is the beginning of an answer. At least for some people, some of the time, loving someone means altering the shape of one's identity to include the beloved. That is, the beloved becomes part of one's identity. Among the many ways one thinks of oneself-as someone with a certain profession, a certain taste in music, or in art-there's also seeing oneself as someone's partner.
Both times, bungee jumping had presented itself neatly packaged, properly regulated and entirely safe, and I declined with little-to-no hesitation. Zambia, on the other hand, met me differently. On a warm, windless day over the Zambezi River, standing in front of a rickety platform with little to suggest international safety compliance, I found myself ready to jump. Not metaphorically-genuinely, wholeheartedly ready. I would have done it too, if not for the people with me urging otherwise-and that says something.