I respect my husband more than anyone on this earth. It is the trust in me and the
belief in me that has made me capable of enduring the things I am faced with now. If you think movies like "The Fugitive" were even mildly interesting you may appreciate the backbone he provides me as I face the desecration of a career I spent almost thrity years building. My downfall was trusting others.
My real downfall was not following my given path, which was always, only writing. What is the outcome of betraying any true love, any real self? It's grave.