Chez Pazienza takes on both the Mark Sanford affair and the overall institute of marriage and wonders; if there is a 50% chance of a marriage succeeding, is it worth the risk?

I’ve long wrestled with that question regarding romantic relationships in general. Humans are fickle and malleable creatures and institutions like marriage seem like a house of cards when faced against our passions and foibles. The formula of success varies from couple to couple and the rules change at a moment’s notice. Hard work and dedication to one another seem to be the obvious key to success but so does meeting the right person in the first place and that often comes down to chance.

Like Pazienza, it’s easy for me to be cynical. My nearest role models (my parents, my brother, and his wife) all seem to have the successful template for ready emulation and yet I can’t seem to come to grips with it. I have never reconciled a deep romantic streak with my solitary, introverted side, and when the breakups in my life eventually happen, they fester inside my head long after. The great Buddhist lesson of letting go of earthly attachments… well, it looks easy on paper.

And yet, when I’m in a relationship, I typically like it. I like having another heartbeat within arm’s reach, I like sharing a joke with the punch line only known to the two of us, and I like the moment when, by holding her hand, nothing is said and yet everything is known.

I understand Pazienza’s frustration. We have wildly divergent life experiences, but in his writing, he seems like a long-lost brother to me. I know that thwarted romantic all too well.