If you never get married, will you be happy?

At 50, unmarried, recently retired, with a small pension, some savings, and two old, run-down apartments in a first-tier city. The house is kept very clean, I cook for myself every day, and I have a couple of potted plants. I have a cat, very lively, affectionate, and adorable, and my daily life revolves around this cat. Since I’ve just retired and have some free time, I’m looking for something to do but haven’t decided what yet. My mother has passed away, and my father is independent and strong, able to take care of himself, so there’s no real burden. My sister has a son who is very intelligent. We live in the same neighbourhood now, so I help her take care of him. Life is very peaceful. I enjoy reading Tang poetry and Song lyrics on my Kindle while sitting on the toilet. I can’t really say what happiness is, but I feel that when nothing happens and everything is peaceful, that’s happiness.

One of the values of marriage is that it is the best vehicle for love. One of the flaws of marriage is that it is too much a matter of luck. By the time I saw this question, there were already thousands of answers, and after skimming through them, I found that some people said they were happy, while others said they were not. From this perspective, you don't need to reference anyone else's life. Because whether they are happy or not comes from their own self. Having spent years navigating the internet, I have witnessed countless bizarre marriages, with differences so vast they might as well be worlds apart. I have seen two immature individuals, naive and clueless, enter marriage without any sense of responsibility, yet somehow become parents, leaving their parents and children to suffer the consequences. I’ve also seen men who marry into their wives’ families and women who marry into their husbands’ families, both ending up as disposable assets in their spouses’ families. They call it marriage, but it’s really just a bloodletting. Of course, there are also fake marriages where two people agree on a price and live together without any emotional connection, just because they happened to meet. There are endless stories like these. These collapsed, bizarre, and painful marriages are as numerous and stinky as the hairs on a cow's butt. But do you think I am here to criticise the existence of marriage, or to advise you that one's happiness should never be tied to another person or a relationship? Actually, quite the opposite, because I will preserve the meaning of marriage. I believe that some people should be allowed to fantasise about love. There are people in this world whose happiness is tied to others, to a relationship. They are sensitive, fragile, and often lost in themselves. The lack of security and the sense of drifting leave them in a constant state of psychological imbalance. They may have various illnesses, or they may be perfectly normal. Some may be undergoing treatment, taking medication, or consulting doctors, while others may do nothing at all. But what we can be certain of is that marriage, for this group of people, is no different from a lifeline in their spiritual world. It is too well-suited to serve as a vessel for such illusions. It can be imbued with a certain divine quality, like a sudden act of mercy that embraces you entirely, soothes all your pain, and nourishes your battered flesh. It can also be a gentle breeze, softly touching your dried-up self, dispersing the impatience and anxiety brought on by suffering. Its appearance brings about the formation of a relationship and imbues the concept of loyalty. From then on, your drifting life finds a home, as the blurred family meaning from childhood trauma seems to clarify once more, and your incomplete self gradually fills in the gaps. After sensing love, you slowly gain all your emotions. This stable state allows you to sleep soundly and truly relax with ease over the years. You no longer need to fear the numbness brought by the passage of time or worry that joyful things will eventually become boring, for it always brings anticipation within familiarity. Even death. Its arrival grants you the courage and acceptance to face death. From then on, life has meaning, and death has a destination. To be honest, if it were ten years ago, I would have thought such delusions were meaningless. But as I’ve grown older, more people have entered my field of vision, and I’ve witnessed page after page of human separation. On the path of mental illness, I’ve almost gone too far to return. Yet I have gradually come to understand a truth: for such fragile human beings, holding onto a delusion that can bear the weight of everything may truly be important. For even if it never comes to pass, that hope alone will prevent you from feeling utterly alone. Whether you acknowledge your own collapse, curl up in exhaustion, or lie on the brink of death, pleading for divine salvation. Humans are occasionally so fragile that they must, in this materialistic world, pray for the favour of a thing as if it were a religious cult. Years ago, I would have called this cowardice. Now I would rather close my eyes and tell you it doesn’t matter. Therefore, even if the voices of marital tragedy are as vast as the sea, I will not deny its significance. So if you are extremely cold and powerful, or extremely repulsive and closed off, I would advise you against marriage, as it would only become an obstacle in your life, causing you to crash and burn. If you are pragmatic or burdened by a sense of responsibility, if you are mature and discerning, I would advise you to enter into marriage, but with caution and care, so as to avoid unnecessary trouble and receive mutual value in return. But if you are as fragile and vulnerable as I have described. I would advise you to keep your hopes for marriage alive and wish you the favour of heaven to make such a fantasy come true. Because maintaining the connection between oneself and the world may prevent one from falling into despair. So it’s ironic that humans always get lost when seeking a place to belong. But that’s okay. Even if someone were to say I’m being delusional, that I don’t understand suffering, that I’m foolish—it doesn’t matter. After all, I’m mentally ill; how could I possibly understand humanity clearly?

I have no idea. Maybe I have to get married to make my parents' life complete, even though I do not know the benefit of doing it. Maybe I am just not ready to take responsibility.