I came across this extract from a 19th century novel and thought it very appropriate after being married to John for over forty years:- "Oh, the comfort, the inexpressible comfort, of feeling safe with a person: having neither to weigh thoughts, nor measure words, but pour them all out, just as they are, chaff and grain together, knowing that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and then, with a breath of kindness, blow the rest away."