Dear Joe,
I saw you at the Steinberg wedding last night. You were really out there dancing. From across the room I saw that you were smiling, but I couldn’t help but notice the sadness in your eyes.
I could imagine what you were thinking: Why not me? When will it be my turn? Will it ever be my turn?
Joe, listen to me. If you don’t make some changes, it will never be your turn. Never. You will find yourself an old man wondering how life has passed you by, and why you never found your way to the chuppah.
Yes, I know your history, and all your excuses, which you call “reasons.” When your friends started dating you were too busy – working during the day and going to school at night. And, the girl of your dreams wasn’t to be found in your classes. To your dismay, your classmates turned out to be yeshiva boys and married women.
You set your sights on moving to Israel, a fine goal. And you made it, mazal tov! You moved into the absorption center, which provided the college dorm experience you sorely regretted missing. There were always people to talk to when you hung around the lobby. There was an abundance of Shabbos invitations. Except for the absence of any dating, your social life was great. Except…
Most singles stayed at the absorption center for about a year. You stayed for years. Finally, you moved to an apartment in the center of the singles neighborhood in Jerusalem. You married off one roommate after the next, and after seeing the last one to the chuppah you decided not to look for a replacement. You claimed you were tired of roommates who didn’t take care of your property and hogged the phone. Actually, I think you just got tired of being left behind.
One time when you bemoaned being single, I recommend meeting a shadchanit, a matchmaker. You rejected that idea out of hand. I suggested a number of eligible women in your neighborhood. Each one you discounted with comments like, “She’d never go out with me!” or “I know her already and we’re friends.” You wouldn’t consider someone who was not a native English speaker, or who was over thirty-five. You didn’t want someone divorced, and certainly not a woman with children, claiming, “I don’t want to raise someone else’s kids!”
Finally, you said with exasperation, “Listen, I’ve just seen too many movies. I want to meet someone and know right away that she’s the right one for me. Maybe I’m just a romantic, but that’s the way I feel.”
Joe! You’re pushing fifty! It’s time to get out of the movie theatre and into reality. Yes, there’s interest at first sight, attraction at first sight. But, Joe, most people will tell you that it takes getting to know a person before you can say he or she is the right one. Sometimes someone who didn’t grab your attention the first time around gets more attractive the more you get to know her. Instead of waiting for someone magical to sweep you off your feet, you have to give a chance to a woman who has the qualities you’re looking for but may not grab you from across the room. And that woman may come to you as a shidduch from a matchmaker.
Tell me, Joe, what are the chances you’ll really find someone fifteen years your junior? Your problem is that you know someone who got married at sixty to a woman twenty-five years his junior who went on to have a son. What are the chances of that? One in a thousand? Two thousand? Joe, that’s a gamble not worth taking, because if you lose, you end up single until your dying day.