Reminiscing Again

I once showed this photo to The One I Cannot Name.  She said the two lighthouses reminded her of us.

The red one must be me, the prickly, emotional and impatient one with all the goat between us.  She's the dainty white one, the one with the maddening innocence, decorum and all the cat between us.

Except for a few precious -- and all-too-brief -- occasions, we have had to be apart.  Circumstances also demanded that we be discreet.  Still, we communicated on the sly.  We would greet each other in the morning, bid each other good night, and in between we would tell each other very private things all throughout the day.  These days I hear from her on rare occasions only.  I shouldn't complain, though;  I live alone, so I could do as I wished, but I knew it was impossible for her to keep it up -- apart from the risk of discovery, she led, and still leads, a much busier, more stressful and event-filled life than I do.  She has lots more people in her life who need her attention, people who love her and whom she loves -- and whom she must keep in the dark.  I don't make demands on her time because I know I cannot;  to her I am The One Who Cannot Be Named.