Why we desire what we cannot have
Desire is a paradoxical emotion. It draws us toward people, moments, and things that remain just beyond our reach. It ignites a longing that electrifies and drives us, yet often cannot be fulfilled. Or perhaps, it should never be fulfilled at all.
What we cannot possess seems infinitely more valuable than what comes to us without resistance. But why is that? Why does distance intensify longing, while closeness so often smothers it? Why does the unattainable hold a stronger pull than what is already ours?
Perhaps the truth lies in the very nature of the unattainable – that we desire it precisely because it remains out of reach. That the spark continues to glow only as long as the fire is never fully ignited. But what happens when we finally obtain it? Does the magic dissolve? Perhaps the true game is not in possession, but in that which can never be fully grasped.
Desire as a biological drive – Why our brain compels us to chase
Desire is more than just an emotion. It is a survival mechanism. Our brain does not reward possession, it rewards the pursuit.
• Dopamine, often referred to as the “happiness hormone”, is not primarily released when we possess something, but rather in anticipation of it, while we are moving toward it.
• Achieving a goal may satisfy our craving, but it also strips us of the thrill of the chase.
• What is difficult to obtain appears more valuable – not because it is objectively better, but because our brain associates it with scarcity.
This principle applies not only to material things but also to human attraction.
• Selective mate choice: People who are selective about their relationships appear more desirable. Not because they are intentionally distant, but because their exclusivity is linked to high quality.
• Social dynamics: People who are not accessible to everyone possess a distinct attraction. This applies to both romantic relationships and social status.
• Cognitive perception: Our brain places a higher value on rare or hard-to-attain things – a psychological principle known as the “scarcity effect”.
This means:
• We do not just fall in love with people—we fall in love with the chase.
• Once we fully possess something, our brain perceives it differently.
• It is not fulfillment that keeps the fire alive, but the tension leading up to it. Perhaps the true fire is not in what we have, but in what we imagine we could have.
The unattainable as a canvas for projection – Why we idealize what we cannot have
Desire is rarely rational. It often does not arise from an actual deficiency but rather from projection. The unattainable does not merely seem fascinating, but rather we make it so.
• We believe that what we cannot have has the power to complete us.
• We project our desires, dreams, and fantasies onto what cannot be disenchanted.
• A person who remains out of reach can never disappoint us.
That is why a forbidden affair often remains more thrilling than a lived-out love. Fantasy is never overtaken by reality.
The best example of this psychological mechanism is the Zeigarnik Effect:
• A book that ends abruptly lingers in our minds longer.
• A song that fades out unfinished continues to echo in our thoughts.
• A person with whom something could have been imprints itself more deeply into our consciousness than someone we have fully possessed.
When something is never fully realized, it remains a possibility. And that possibility is often far more seductive than any reality.
Exclusivity and luxury – Scarcity as a status symbol
This principle is not only evident in human relationships, but also in the world of luxury. Rarity does not just create desire, it transforms objects into status symbols.
• Limited editions – Watches, cars, fashion, or artwork often gain value precisely because of their scarcity. A handbag is not coveted for its practicality but because only a select few can own it.
• Private clubs and secret events – The allure lies not only in what they offer but in what is denied to others. Restrictions on access make membership more desirable than the actual experience itself.
• The psychology of the waiting list – Whether it’s an exclusive restaurant reservation or a limited-edition sneaker release, the anticipation and uncertainty of whether one will obtain it make the object of desire even more valuable.
The same dynamics apply to relationships. People who do not open themselves up indiscriminately, but instead exude a sense of exclusivity are often perceived as more desirable. The feeling of being part of something rare – be it a fleeting moment, a selective connection, or a unique experience – lends a significance that transcends the ordinary.
The art of desire – Proximity, distance and the game in between
If the unattainable intensifies desire, does that mean one should always remain elusive? No. True attraction is not born from constant presence or total absence, but from the balance between the two.
• The greatest fascination lies in unpredictability.
• It is not constant presence that captivates, but controlled absence.
• The magic is sustained in the tension between accessibility and withdrawal.
Some people understand this instinctively. Others learn it through experience. And then there are those who grasp the deeper truth: that true fascination does not lie in possession but in longing itself.
Because that is the real dilemma of desire: When we finally possess something, it becomes real. It is no longer a fantasy, no longer an unfulfilled possibility. And then we must ask ourselves – was it truly what we wanted? Or was it the pursuit that made us feel most alive?
Between sparks and flames
Sometimes, we tell ourselves stories about sparks because fire seems too dangerous. Because it is easier to preserve a possibility as a mere idea than to expose ourselves to the heat of an unleashed reality. A spark is harmless – it can glow, flicker briefly, and fade without leaving a trace. But a fire? A fire burns. It consumes, transforms and leaves an indelible mark.
That is why some sparks remain untouched. We speak of what could have been rather than allowing it to be. We leave a door slightly ajar but never dare to step through. Because what if, beyond that threshold, there is not just warmth waiting, but an inferno capable of consuming everything in its path?
Yet, there is fire that cannot be denied. It may smolder, simmer beneath the surface, lie dormant – but it exists. And the real question is not whether it burns, but whether we are willing to surrender to it.