The question, and one that has plagued poets, philosophers, psychologists, and most of all, country and western songwriters is: What is love and why the hell does it often lead to a path of destruction? This specific type of “love” that drives people nuts is different from the “love” perhaps best characterized by Kris Kristofferson as “easier than anything I’ve ever done before”. I regard passion-love as intense but not profound, while I regard altruistic love, when one enjoys giving, as less intense but much more profound.

I want to add my speculations to the vast collection. Virtually every time I see someone suffering from romantic love, three ingredients are necessary, lust and ambiguity being the first two. The lust, that intense physical attraction which is not solely sexual, is necessary from a Darwinian perspective. If we were not highly motivated by lust, people wouldn’t do all of the necessary absurdities needed to preserve the species. We wouldn’t travel great distances, spend hours choosing cosmetics and dieting, competing and performing in order to connect.

However, I always see tension as an added component when it is the shoot-oneself-in-the-foot love. The tension is a result of getting mixed signals from the other person. Typically, the other person goes hot and cold, is in and out, can be attentive or indifferent and that is enough to make our poor lovesick victim nuts. The “other’s” reason may be games, but usually it’s confusion and genuine ambiguity. The feelings of the two are simply not parallel. Thus the victim bounces on a yo-yo from euphoria to despair, depending upon the mood of the “other”. The combination of lust and tension of dealing with ambiguity is seen as “love.”

Given that, why the hell doesn’t the victim simply say, “I don’t need this and I’m gone!”? My theory is once again Darwinian. To survive, humans need to be programmed to get approval. We are a weak species and, historically could exist only by being accepted in groups. If we were not neurologically wired up to gain approval, we would perish. Therefore, the tether that keeps this destructive attraction is an intense and irrational need for acceptance by people we deem critical. Few are immune from this. Even Hugh Hefner, of all people, pined after Bobbi Benton rejected him.

Usually, when my married clients are suffering from obsessive passion—love which dominates thoughts, feelings and functioning—they are relating to an illusion and not to a person. The mundane life with a spouse, replete with biological functions and conflicts, as well as shared joys, can’t compete with romantic illusions. The “other” is usually known from a contrived date that a marriage can’t compete with. The usual lament I hear from patients who are felled by a violent infatuation is “I can’t live without “Joe.” Yet the typical course is that after time, usually about a year, the “Joe” sinks into oblivion.

The capacity to love, and to be hurt is very human and positive. People who cannot experience these feelings have an emotional void. But to allow these intense feelings to block sensible functioning is destructive. If I knew a shortcut to reduce the pain, I wouldn’t hide it. For single people, replacement is the best strategy. I advise my clients that they must allow themselves to live with pain, and rather than fight the pain, to view it as an affirmation of our emotional richness, and to appreciate the curative effects of time. The pain, as intense as it is, will fade.

Yet, altruistic love–where we feel good about helping the people we love, and we feel good, sexually and emotionally, when we are with that special person—is what should be celebrated more than Valentine’s day. I’m married 38 years, and, although my heart doesn’t skip a beat, I still light up when I come home to see my wife’s car in the driveway.