I have a friend who is town for a few weeks (yay!) thanks to the holidays, and tonight, the few of us who are left here in Chicago are going out with her. As I sit here, anticipating the night to come, the laughs, giggles, gossip, and fun, I cannot help but think of that poem, and how different our lives are now, especially considering where we were just four years ago.
Four years ago, we all stood in the same place, looking toward our future, whatever that might be. We were off to college, or, in most cases, to Israel for a year. After that, college. We each stood on the road, and chose our path. For some, it led to college in New York. For others, that path led to college back home.
Four years later, we were back, standing at the fork again, though this time, we were no longer standing together. We were each standing at our respective forks; the forks where the previous path had led us, each on our own. One of us made the decision to join her family in Israel for a year; the other, to stay in New York and either get a job or go to school; for two of us, well, we stayed in our home city, waiting for everyone to return to us. (Don't worry, we got, or are getting jobs.)
We still sit, waiting for those times during the year when our friends will return, and we'll all hang out like old times. But it will never be like old times. While the friendship is still there, it is different. We are different. We are all different people, at different stages of our lives, yet, at the same time, at the exact same stages. Some of us have to work at the friendship a bit more; for some, it's just there, flowing like it always did. But when we're together, it's almost like nothing has changed. But underneath, we all know things have changed, and will keep changing. We have all chosen very different roads over the years, but the one road we have not chosen is to let this friendship go. The one road we hae chosen together over the years is to keep this bond we have, this closeness, the friendship we have forged through the years, depsite what other roads we have chosen or will choose.
The poem by Robert Frost:
The Road Not Taken (1915)
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth. Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same. And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-- I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.
1 comment:
That is a great poem! I know exactly what you are talking about. Although we are all still friends, it is sometimes different now. We used to see each other everyday in school. We would spend hours together, talking about everything. Now, it's like we're always catching up, trying to keep track of where everybody is and what everybody is doing. It makes me sad that we have to catch up like that because after everything, after all of the friends I made in college, I still consider you guys my best friends. The friends who are more than friends and who will always be more than friends. I hang out with my college friends and other friends from Chicago, but it's just not the same. It always feels like there is something missing. But when we all get together, even if we are different, it still feels the same. And I love that and I hope that it will always be like that. No matter how much we change, we still have this special kind of relationship. I might be the only person who feels that way, maybe not. But for whatever reason I know we will always be close. I hope this makes sense. Love ya.
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