Once upon a time there was a guy.
The guy had many admirable qualities, but also a fatal flaw. To rectify this flaw, he had to achieve a goal. But between himself and this goal, he found forces arrayed against him. Sometimes it seemed society itself was arrayed against him. At times he didn't even know who or what he was supposed to be, and he despaired. His situation and his mood became black almost beyond the imagining of a privileged person sitting comfortably in an armchair with a book. And yet, forces beyond the guy's understanding forced him either to lie down and die or to overcome his obstacles. He refused to lie down and die, and so circumstances drove him toward his destiny. This destiny might have been grim, or it might have been joyous, but one thing he came to realize: It was his.
The woman who loved him was complicated. She had her own destiny and her own goals and her own indomitable will, and many times, she could not decide whether to love him or not. But as it turned out, she had no choice. She went through Hell with him, but she went along willingly, with all her heart. She knew he would have given anything to spare her the agony of loving him, but again, thus spake destiny. His struggle belonged not to him alone, but to both of them.
As they careened through history together, they swept along a mass of friends, enemies, and hangers-on, each of whom deserves his own story. But this is the story of the guy and the woman who dared to love him.
Will they be borne out of the fire by the courage of their convictions? Or will their very passions immolate them? I got no idea. I'm just making stuff up.