For Love
But their roles had reversed in a manner of speaking. Where once he was adamant about things and inflexible and she was open and easy to please, they now had switched sides. Her return to her childhood faith was literally a Godsend for her, but bode poorly for him. He had an epiphany of sorts; he still was filled with faith, but with a new understanding and he knew for the first time he was meant for something different than he had ever imagined. But her world didn't have room for his new understanding. She loved him, and likely would always love him. But she wouldn't like what she saw if she knew who and what he had become.
Years of love don't get swept away and discarded even if the pain of staying the same grows with every sunrise. Hearts knit together cannot be torn apart over even the most serious of beliefs about one's self. And of course, they were always free to be who they were inside...nothing had changed there. She still loved him, even if she didn't know anything about who he had become. In that regard, nothing had changed other than the outward expression, if it had been allowed room. That it had no overt means of being meant little compared to the hurt that expression might cause. So he never told her. She still loved the whole person, in whom the new part of him dwelt, unnamed and unspoken. And the new part of him always loved her because the new part of him was really there all along.