"She's pretty. Nice too. You mom would like her."
"My mom never met you."
I lamented, "But you know she'll like her better. She's the easier choice."
"She might be the easier choice, but the decision is still hard."
Silence invaded our privacy. It consumed us like waves are to a surfer.
"This reminds me of a poem," I said as I broke the silence.
"What poem ?"
"Two roads diverged. One is familiar and had the better claim and one, the road less taken."
"Which one should I choose then?"
"The road less taken."
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