There’s a soft sadness that accompanies the end to any dating streak. Even if you knew it wouldn’t work, even if you broke it off yourself, it’s the end of a hope that leaves you in a slump.
Everything always sounds so great on paper. You felt sure that this just might be the one. Your imagination was going at full speed as you checked yourself in the mirror one last time. Everything seemed right; nothing could possibly come up and impede. Then you go out. You discover that it’s the blanks between the lines that speak the loudest. You begin to wonder how anyone can ever pick a true soul-mate out from among the masses, and if you ever will. You glumly surf the ‘net late into the night with glazed eyes, gazing moodily at the ecstatic faces in the “Engagements” section of OnlySimchas and skimming the backlog of BadforShidduchim, trying to find something to cheer you up. Nothing does, so you slowly drag yourself off to bed.
The next day your friend catches you staring into space and jokingly asks if you’re getting engaged. You give a bittersweet smile and tell her not to worry—there’s no danger. But as the day progresses you get wrapped up in the here and now, and slowly you ease out of it. There’s a grand present to live, and so much to do, and one more person you’re glad you don’t have to do it with, and so many more still available to meet. Life’s good—and you’re not going to waste it wallowing in gloom.