"Is it true?" I asked in a hushed whisper?
He nodded his head yes.
I closed my eyes and tried to wrap my brain around this thought: My husband wants respect more than love.
We were on a long drive, the kids busy in the backseat, he and I, listening into shared ear buds, a book on CD.
He turned the words off and turned to me. "I know you love me, but I don't always know you respect me."
His words were gentle, his eyes warm. His beseeching, a sweet hug. But the words-they were like a knife. They cut deep because they were true.
[Continue reading my revelation over at (in)Courage]