The most important thing in life is to be with the one you love. If you’re not, no material luxury, no adrenaline sport, no therapy, and no ayahuasca bucket barfing is going to fix this, for you’re already dead. Neither stupidity nor insanity can save you, animals are saddened when cubs get taken away, asylum patients expect a visitor. That’s how they got there in the first place, they went insane from the abandonment.
Almost nobody is paired with the one, that’s why the world looks like this. Relationships start in late teens and early twenties when people are on the move and their urges boil over. When one is matched correctly, the other makes a trial switch, or several. This causes disapproval from the partner who doesn’t enjoy variety, manifested by screaming and grabbing by the neck. Then there’s bad blood (sometimes really bad and confirmed by a doctor) and lovers split.
There are no statistics on this because there are no gauges that measure true love, universities can make studies all they want. But it is an exact science because you’re the gauge. When you wake up in the morning and think of her, years after you have seen each other, when you catch a glimpse of him on the street and your knees disintegrate, you know.