I think it's that way for everybody, except possibly saints. Saints seem to be able to channel the Power of Love from an endless supply (The God Generator or whatever), like caps that are always fully charged and thus always close the loop. Of course, I never related particularly well to those lovey-dovey, mostly female saints. I wasn't even that into relatively assertive St. Jeanne D'Arc---sure she had some adventures, but some wimp shit doofus ends up king and she ends up burnt at the stake. If she'd been Irish instead of French things would have been different (not that farfetched either as St. Patrick WAS French by birth). I liked St. Ignatius, running around the world starting revolutions and spreading international intrigue. Or St. Francis de Sales--bad temper, great swordsman, opened a can of whoopass on a bunch of immoral robbers who attacked him. Or Father Michael Pro who ran around Mexico dressed as a drunken gambler, or in drag, so he could sneak into people's houses and say illegal Masses. (Unfortunately most of the priests nowadays not only don't seem to have that kind of nerve, they also seem likely to be found gambling/drunk/in drag without any sort of a Higher Purpose behind it. )
But to get back on track, as I see it, the trick is loving Enough without letting Too Much go by.
I don't have to fight
To prove I'm right
And I don't need to be forgiven...