I cried profuse tears when my relationships failed, which was all the time. I wanted to love and be loved, but I behaved badly, and I had terrible taste. All the people who say they want to be married, but are not, are doing the same thing. All the statistics about how hard it is to find someone to love in this world — in this world of seven billion — do not account for the choices we make. We are the sum of our decisions: It’s not that luck has nothing to do with it, but rather, there is no such thing.

It is difficult to write a published book. It is difficult to get tenure in the astrophysics department at Berkeley. It is difficult to win the Heisman Trophy. But it is easy to get married: about 90 percent of Americans still do at some time in their lives. No self-help industry is required. People who want to get married stop behaving like fools for love and start acting intelligently. It is as simple as wanting to be happy.

When I was ready to fall in love for real, I stopped behaving badly, and I met someone great, and great for me. I got better and my taste got better. My fiancé is smart and handsome and talented and decent. Everything about him is my favorite thing about him.

He proposed this past May, just seven months after we met. I knew I was going to marry Jim the night I encountered him, at a reading in Chelsea in autumn, so it did not seem too soon.

Many romances end after three years because that is their logical limit, which does not mean the time was wasted: Most relationships, including marriages, end, but we continue to have them and it is not because we hate ourselves. I believe that we all know what we are getting into with another person early on, and it is worth it, whatever the duration. A lifelong thing is lovely, but a one-night stand is also lovely. It is my good fortune never to have wed the 374 or so men I dated before Jim. I don’t know how many times I should have registered at Tiffany and celebrated extravagantly for the mistakes I did not make. I would have many remarkable sets of silver, serving spoons included. I would own gravy boats galore.

So I guess I have nothing to regret, after all.