| The Conversation Continues |

The Conversation Continues — Words Unspoken / Issue 872

“I understand your pain in a way that many others never will”



To the Last One Standing,

I remember speaking one night after yet another dating saga ended. There used to be five of us hanging out. Then one got engaged. There were four of us left, then three. Then there were two.

You and I were in this together. We took turns playing mentor and mentee. We had our plans.

And now, as you stand there alone, my heart is breaking. I understand your pain in a way that many others never will. I can even taste your tears. But we’re not in it together anymore. As hard as I cry, you’re standing there alone.

But to the Last One Standing, know this: A piece of my heart is still standing there with you.

With love,

The Second to Last


Things Aren’t the Same
Dear Second to Last,

I appreciate your words. It pains me how true it is that the dynamics do change.

Unfortunately, our relationship will never be the same. And although we both know that’s the reality, it’s so hard to accept. Forgive me for seeming distant when you call. I apologize I come across so reluctant to let you into my life. But most of all, I’m sorry I can’t manage to express joy over your simchahs. The loneliness and fear of the unknown is raging inside me, and it’s so hard to see above that and rejoice with you. Trust me, I really, really want to. But for now, I just hope you can still see the deep love I have for you beneath my pain. I would never want your story to be any different. There’s a plan for me that time will reveal. But until I see it, to the Second to Last, know this: A piece of my heart is moving on with you.

The Last One Standing


We Can Still Talk

While I agree that it’s painful for your friend that she’s the last one to get married, I really don’t understand why you said in your letter to her that you feel she can’t talk to you about dating anymore.

I went through four years of dating alongside my friends, where, just like you said, we were able to share so much of the challenge. Once I got married, I was a source of chizuk for them. They watched as I dated so many of the wrong guys and had such a hard time. When I finally met the right one, it gave hope to everyone that the right one would come at the right time.

Now that I’m married, of course I still talk to my friends! It’s not so hard to remember that last year I was at the same hard stage they are still at. They know that I get it, and I’m able to look back on my journey and empathize with them the same way I used to! Married friends should definitely still check in on their single friends, open up conversation, and remind them that they get it!

Name Withheld


I Need to Go
To the Second to Last,

You did it.

For so long we stood together, watching as everyone went, one by one.

In the beginning, it was fun. We were the kallah’s friends, and we owned those weddings.

We all hoped we would be next. And slowly, peoples’ hopes came true, and our circle of friends dwindled until it was just the two of us left, single... but still dreaming.

For the last wedding in our group, we, the available ones, organized all the shtick. At that point we hadn’t talked about it yet. We were so busy with the wedding, and though we harbored secret fears, we kept them deep, deep inside.

But after the chuppah we met in the bathroom and cried.

That was the turning point.

That was when we became the last two.

That was when our friendship got deeper.

That was when my secret fears met yours.

It was just the two of us left, trying to dream. We laughed together at our morbid jokes. We commiserated. We comforted each other.

You used to keep my what-ifs at bay. What if it will never be me? What if I’ll be alone forever? What if I’m not good enough? What if....

It was hard to get our hopes up date after date, boy after boy. We laughed and went out for ice cream instead.

In our hearts a pain too deep to acknowledge was the fear that the other would go first.

And one of us would be left.

And then what?

And though we knew it could happen any day, we didn’t really expect it to.

But now, it happened.

I knew your pain like I know mine.

But the last one? You can’t understand that feeling. The agony of it has become a monster, scratching and clawing at me. Tearing me to shreds.

I can’t cry to you because I don’t want to get in the way of your happiness. The happiness you deserve so much.

I want to scream and cry and pound my pillow. I want to hide and pretend that I’m okay, that I’m fine.

But you know me too well; you’ll call me out on it.

And this time, I want to pretend to you, too.

So I need to go.

Not because I’m jealous.

Not because I’m not happy. I am so happy for you.

I need to go so I don’t break.

I cried in the bathroom again. But this time I didn’t meet you there, because you were busy greeting all the well-wishers.

And this crying bout was a turning point, too.

This was when I became the last one.

This was when I realized that the only thing I had to lean on now was the bathroom sink.

That was when I let go.

That was when I stopped dreaming.

So my friend, I’m sorry. I need to go.

I don’t want to hurt you, but it hurts me too much.

Just know I share in your happiness. I love you and I want what’s best for you.

Go build your dreams. Fan those flames of hope.

And... I’ll be back.

Thank you.

I’m sorry,

The Last One Standing


(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 874)

Oops! We could not locate your form.