Two roads diverged in the wood, and I took the one more traveled.
At first, it seemed easy. Smooth paths full of fake company – stars full of bottled glow – made it easy. Conversation with the sky flowed as time passed in a haze, gradually getting steeper without my realizing it.
But then as night descended, as the storm blew in and the stars fell, the road more traveled became a ghost town of loneliness and despair. In this agony, I realized. My mistake was thinking that the road more traveled was the right path for me – that this road full of fake company and bottled stars suited everyone.
But I am not everyone. So I turned back.
Two roads diverged in the wood. I took the one less traveled. And it was glorious.