The longing to devote ourselves to something we regard as greater than ourselves is a beautiful quality. But when we fail to recognize its essential nature-as a basic need to realize the fullness of our larger being-falling in love can leave us feeling helpless and tortured, like Joanna in her obsessions with men. Here we see the relation between the words passion and passive. In falling under the spell of her lovers, Joanna saw herself as a passive victim-a state of mind commonly portrayed in the classic love tales. Tristan feels driven toward Isolde not out of choice, but because he has accidentally swallowed a love potion. In the most famous of Sufi love tales, Majnun laments that his passion for Layla, which causes him to go mad and wander the countryside composing love songs, is completely beyond his control: 'I have not chosen the way, I have been cast upon it. I am manacled, and my fetters are made of iron. But it was not I who forged them; it was my Kismet that decided. I follow obediently my beloved, who owns my soul."  

Eventually this agony itself may become addicting, because its burning intensity makes us feel so alive. Thus is born the classic romantic melodrama: The lover's struggle to overcome the obstacles between himself and his beloved keeps the fire of his passion burning at a feverish pitch. Yet while struggling to win his beloved, the lover also unconsciously sabotages any genuine relationship with her, so that he can maintain the vivid intensity of his longing. If he actually gets to know his beloved- as an ordinary, imperfect person, with the same sorts of needs and failings as himself-he will no longer be able to sustain the illusion that makes him feel so high.  Thus we often unconsciously choose partners who are unattainable, because of marriage, age, geographical distance, or emotional incompatibility. Or else we may start fights that create distance just when we are getting too close. This keeps us stuck in the neurotic runaround that is the stuff of all soap operas: seeking fulfillment and denying it to ourselves at the same time. As Majnun proclaims to Layla:. You are my salve for a hundred thousand wounds, yet you are also my sickness."