Many women treat their relationships with un-invested men like a gambler betting his savings against the house. The odds are not in their favor but still they place their bets, hoping that a higher power-- God, fate, karma, the Force from Star Wars, perhaps even their own "supernatural" worth and appeal-- will favor them. Nine times out of ten they’ll lose, but all it takes is a single win (however minor) to keep them chained to their addiction like a dancing monkey to an organ grinder.
Kenny Rogers, the Gambler, popularized this famous creed: “You gotta know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em, know when to walk away and know when to run…” A professional gambler dispassionately calculates her chances of a win, analyzing past and probable outcomes and determining risk versus reward-- but even then she could lose. Imagine the odds for the woman who blindly wagers that her man will remain faithful, appreciate and respect her, be there when she needs him and not exploit her, and commit to something lasting when the past and probability as indicators suggest otherwise.
Would you reach for a venomous snake? Press your hand to a hot stove? Walk barefoot on broken glass? Jump off a bridge? Drink water from a toilet? Maybe-- but would you do these things again… and again… and again? Repeating the same action repetitively and expecting a different outcome is not insanity-- it’s stupidity. He’s betting on you to bet everything on him. That makes him the winner, you the loser.