I’d have asked, my friend, what I should have done? What decision I should make?
In the past, I would have turned to you for guidance and advice,
but now,
it seems that I am on my own, and perhaps with such decisions always was.
I know what sentimental memories can do. It augments abilities, heightens fondness, and invests in lost friends virtues that weren’t entirely theirs, but were raised in the intensity of our interaction— the hard things forgotten, for in truth, they dwindle in importance, and go where they should.
I remember that Frost poem when I imagine your answer—the one you liked so much—
“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less travelled by,
And that has made all the difference.”
Should I tread upon that unknown path, Ryan? Should I take the road less travelled by? Frost never spoke of the fear I feel, the devastating doubt and the agonising possibility of making wrong choices.
In the end, I will travel by faith—blindly.
I will do my best, and never know where the other road might well have led—
a more satisfied stomach, but a dying soul, and a heart that knows it should have tried the road not taken.