“Somebody said they saw you/The person you were kissing wasn’t me/And I would never ask you/I just kept it to myself/I don’t wanna know/If you’re playing me, keep it on the low…” — Mario Winans, I Don’t Wanna Know

There are those who would call Winans a pathetic chump, a clod so frightened by what lies in the murky depths of his sordid relationship that he opts to stay in the shallow end, wading blissfully in the serene waters of his own ignorance.

Who, after all, wants to play the sucker while his or her partner dives headfirst into some illicit affair?

But to understand his point is not difficult. There is comfort, undoubtedly, in blinding oneself to the acerbic truths of a rocky relationship, choosing instead to take refuge in some alternate reality where passion is limitless and temptations are wholly eclipsed by an unwavering love usually only articulated by the greatest of poets or the very, very drunk.

In this world, word is bond and life is easy. There are no sleepless nights or wandering minds, no red flags or question marks. Worries dissipate with the long exhale of a sigh of relief.

But those who have come here before — to this land where people turn a blind eye to lying, deception and infidelity — know it is not a place where anyone stays for long.

It is a temporary hideout at best; at worst, an open field where salvageable relationships go to die.

With the exception of the truly neurotic and the painfully insecure, an unshakable sense of suspicion is seldom completely without merit. Something in the minds or the hearts of the wise makes them aware of this, and to ignore it is never a good idea.

Of those who pack up and flee, some will be called crazy — and indeed, they may be — but others will have done so knowing there is nothing but doomed love on an island of doubt.

Sorry, Winans.

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– Andrea Woo is a Vancouver-based news and entertainment reporter. She won this column in a carnival dart game.