There were things I wanted to tell him. But I knew they would hurt him. So I buried them, and let them hurt me.
What does it remember like?
I believed him. I was not stupid. I was his wife.
Do you have any coffee?'...'It stunts my growth, and I'm afraid of death.
We cracked up together, which was necessary, because she loved me again.
Compassion is a muscle that gets stronger with use, and the regular exercise of choosing kindness over cruelty would change us.