Emma Bovary is but one example in modern literature, in which the narcissism of the protagonist exemplifies itself in her phantasies drawn from books, all of which copy a tragic paradigm of love, a passionate moaning and deliquescence: “… she rejected as useless all that did not contribute to the immediate desires of the heart.” Stendhal insists that every woman “starting with the first novel she clandestinely flips open at age fifteen, secretly waits for passionate love” (which should not make us believe that a man is any less receptive for romantic love). Ulrich Beck has characterised (the addiction to) love, which he calls the “fundamentalism of modernity”, as “religion after religion” and “applied reading of novels”. In fact, real love goes hand in hand with a resistance to the romantic convention, which demands quasi-religious contempt of the world from the lovers. This is why Badiou insists that love – instead of being just the experience of the other – is the experience of the world under the conditions of the duality constituted by the encounter. To separate oneself from the “rest of the world” seems to be a constitutive need of the romantic feeling. In order not to indulge in narcissistic world-contempt, the lovers have to claim their singularity in the here and now of a reality, which incessantly endangers this very singularity. Love is aporetic because it exposes the lovers to the conflict of singularity and universality, without the promise of resolvability. Translated into a Baudrillard paraphrase this means: every love which deserves this name loses itself in the universal. As much as love can be defended in its singularity, it also has its share of structuring convention. It articulates this conflict between convention and singularity. The encounter of love is a creative act, because it cannot trust the overcome dispositives including the correlating phantasms. In the conflict of reality and phantasm it is the manifestation of singular universality.