The Road Not Taken

Rob is flying to Minnesota this morning to look at apartments.

I think it was late November when it first came up--there was a huge opportunity for him in St. Paul, and the project would give him a ton of experience, and the company really wanted him to do it. It was exciting, and I was so proud of him, and they want him to start on February 4th, and it didn't really feel real until last week.

It was equal parts fear and denial that kept me from saying anything, both here and in my daily life. I mentioned it to a handful of people when I needed to talk about it, but that was it. I've learned, after almost six months of being apart and having great jobs in different cities, that too many people ask me too many times, what are you doing; what's your plan?

What do you mean, what am I doing? I'm at work. And we're making it work.

Yesterday afternoon it started snowing and it didn't stop until late last night, and I cuddled up on the couch by the fire with a cup of hot chocolate and tried not to think about how fun these nights usually are when you aren't alone.

My office is opening late this morning, so I took a walk with my dog through the dusting that's already starting to melt. I thought about the snow here, and the snow in Minnesota, and my Rob, and how this is going to be really hard, but eventually really good. With hope and faith and love and boots and Dividend Miles, we'll figure it out.

The Road Not Taken

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.

Robert Frost