This article is the first in a series of personal monologues from single men and women struggling to find their soulmate. Our hope is that these posts will offer a glimpse into their world, for us to empathize, commiserate, and learn from. If you have a Frum & Single story you would like to share with us, send it to firstname.lastname@example.org
It’s the second night of Chanukkah and all my friends are out with their families celebrating and having fun.
I, on the other hand, am 25 and single – sitting home alone just looking out of the window as my Chanukah lights flicker right next to me. All I hear is the Menorah crackling.
This isn’t anything new for me. All my friends are married with at least two children. I’m used to being alone while everyone is out there having fun.
But then I get a phone call from a dear friend of mine.
All I can hear on the phone is joy and loud noise in the background. I can’t hear a word he’s saying. He calls me back and invites me to come over. He mentions a few familiar names who are at the party and convinces me to go over.
I get to the party, and first it’s very awkward. Everyone’s sitting with their wives and having fun while I walk in by myself with no one at all. Right away, my friend pulls up a chair and seats me beside him while trying to make me as comfortable as possible.
Fast forward two hours later, and everything has changed. I’m part of the game. I’ve acclimated to the situation and feel comfortable enough that I have a great time.
I get back home and lie down in bed, but tonight unlike many others, there’s a smile on my face.
Why am I telling this story?
Because I feel people take life for granted and forget to be thankful for what they have. Everyone has that neighbor who’s having difficulties with shidduchim and has nowhere to go at times like this. All we want is to be recognized. To be remembered. A simple invitation can change my entire Chanukkah around.
I will forever be thankful to my friend for schlepping me out of the house and made me feel at home.