There is a truth that you know. Something about the world that is just a fact of life. No one needed to tell you this; you never needed to read it in a book. You just know that it’s true, from the long experiences you’ve had in this thing called life.
A sad truth. A bittersweet truth. A truth that gives you no feelings of joy for knowing it, but instead a sort of peace. You know that it’s just the way things are. It’s no one’s fault, there’s nothing that can really be done to reverse it, it just is. And you’re okay with that. You can live with that. This silent truth that is as much a part of you as your bones. You don’t need anything else to go along with it: no promises of redemption, no proposals of avoidance. You can be happy with the truth. You’ve come to know this truth, with all its perfections and imperfections; a spouse of many years that has never been perfect, but then, neither have you.
But why then… Why then when someone you know, when someone you trust and who’s opinion you respect… Why when they tell you this truth, this truth that you have always known… Why does this change things?