"Hell is other people" is something I remind myself of multiple times a day. I assume that when you say "heaven is other people", you are not talking about the people whom you had never met, who did something to allow you to live a civilized life (e.g., the people who built the roads, your car, who had ensured that you have access to antibiotics when you need them). What is it that the people you interact with do that might be considered heavenly?
For the people whom you had known for over 10 years (and whom you get to see every day), you will agree that the enjoyment from the interaction with them is not intense - just some very mild/minor nice feeling (in the best case scenario). Conversely, should they die suddenly, or should they get a serious illness, the distress will be very intense. This kind of means that the expected utility (that we get when comparing the expected costs and benefits) of having them around is negative.
My dad got diagnosed with brain cancer when I was 15. He passed away when I was 20. He was 47. The distress I felt during those five years had certainly been Intense. The way I see it, each "loved one" is a huge liability - a ticking time bomb that doubles as a fun toy (e.g., something that gives you mild enjoyment every day, until the day when it goes off without warning and makes your life a living hell).
You want to minimize the number of "loved ones." You can't do anything about the existing members of your family, but at least don't do anything to increase the size of the family (e.g., bring strangers into the family, and that includes kids).
Bill I disagree with pretty well everything you say.
I appreciate all contributions to civilisation.
Why would I not?
What is it.......etc?
They show me love, which I truly appreciate having had a loveless childhood.
For the people you had known....etc?
The pleasure 'is' intense.
Conversely should they die.....etc?
My beautiful daughter died of breast cancer at 36.
Her husband, my son in law, died at 48 of osophageal cancer.
Another son-in-law committed suicide with bi-polar bisorder.
All were considerably younger than me of course.
I love them all still, and could not possibly regret my relationship with any of them.
I have never thought of my loved ones as ticking time-bombs, though of course I worry about them when illness strikes.
I am bound to consider that I appreciate my personal relationships, draw more from them, than you do.
They are not liabilities to me.
Perhaps I am naturally more sociable, more gregarious.