Love is a dilemma. Love comes to you as an inner turmoil, as an accident. It's similar to Kafka's quote about love being like a knife you twist within yourself.

Now, what he means is that you can go about your daily routine. You're completely content, everything is fine, and then you fall in love. And then you're not fine. You suddenly wonder where that other person is and what you could be doing together. Or you're in love and you suddenly become obsessed with whether or not they truly love you or what will happen in the future.

This is the paradox of love: it both completes and destroys you. And so love is a kind of wound that heals itself. It is both pain and pleasure. Or, as Zizek puts it, love is the ultimate catastrophe, it kind of ruins you and yet it prepares you for life.