I was recently at the wedding of a friend and classmate, Chaya. Chaya and I had this little shtick throughout highschool where we called the row we sat in "Row-1." It was basically just a gimmick, something to take the monotony out of eleventh grade peirush tefilla class and tenth grade pirkei avos class. We had some Row-1 games (all masterminded by SD, of course), some Row-1 study sessions (read: SD cramming from Chaya's notes, which somehow got written despite SD's games), and a general feeling of camaraderie as we argued over the electronic Uno game for the boring classes.
Back to Chaya's wedding. I was sitting at the table next to Shana, another member of Row-1. We discussed her impending wedding; I admired her ring; she gushed about her chosson; all was good. Until I mentally began to take stock. Sarala from Row-1 has a one year old baby; Fraidy from Row-1 has a seven month old baby; Esty from Row-1 is expecting; Chaya from Row-1 just tied the knot; and Shana from Row-1 is rapidly transforming into a brido-sapien. Then there is me. Still single.
Don't get me wrong. I love being single. I mean, sure I want to get married, but life now is good. There are multitudes of benefits to being unattached, and I enjoy all of them. But somewhere in the back of my mind lies the gnawing uncertainty; the deep blackness of the unknown; the moments of "when will my turn come?" It's moments like I had on shabbos, while reminiscing about a story when my friends and I said shir hashirim for an "older single" we knew. I found it both sad and amusing that my 15 year old self had found this girl so old. I am older than she was then. Are there high school girls saying shir hashirim for me?
It's moments like phone calls to friends that make me remember how left behind I feel. I look at my watch, then check the time against the nightly learning seder in Lakewood, then think about my guy, and how he must be lonely too. It's moments like I have when I plan an expedition and find it easier to invite friends that are married long enough to leave their husbands behind than try to think of a single friend.
It's moments when I collect money for the next shower, and wonder who will collect money for mine if everyone is too busy changing diapers. It's moments when my married siblings come breezing into the clean, fragrant house an hour before shabbos and compliment me on how delicious the kugel is. I compliment them on their adorable kids, but inside I wonder when I will be the one coming back home as a guest, sporting a troop of adorable little toddlers waiting to be spoiled.
I know my guy is out there. I know my time will come. I don't need chizuk. I don't want reminders of how Hashem is running of the world. I just wanted to share my feelings with you, wondering if anyone else gets these nagging moments of doubt. And I feel better already, so three cheers for blogging-therapy!