For an entire lifetime, no one will care about what you think; no one will care about how you feel; no one will care about where you go; no one will care about who you are, until, of course, for some, someone does. Some find comfort in the solitude. Others find themselves crushed by the loneliness. And others, still, find that someone ends up caring, caring a lot, caring so much, in fact, that life without you defines the impossible. The risks, however, of a life built for two, include all of the same risks that a life lived for one but with additional danger.
Death, of course, tops the list. A handful of other vulnerabilities order themselves as follows: forced compassion and empathy, obligate affection, sharing, emotional dependence, altruism, candor and absorption. The life built for two resonates with some while it puts a bad taste in the mouths of others. Few find complete isolation palatable, but even fewer find coupling appealing. In the realm of Whenever Is Now, the powers that be rarely necessitate such an extreme circumstance. In general, those who couple view their situations as advantageous, but for the loners, fluidity reduces the risk posed upon the delicate couples within the Realm.
Much of what one may or may not glean from either option eludes the imagination. To live the life of another requires a sacrifice of the self, and to sacrifice the self is to be extant. And unless a life —not your own— recognizes you within your life, you cannot be accounted for as existing, either. What one ought to then do, the powers recommend, reveals a truer, more significant problem within Whenever Is Now at large.