Two people, spending time together. They each have a secret. He likes grapefruit, she likes mushrooms. They do not share this secret. After many years or grapefruit and mushroom avoidance, their lives have come to resemble the secret. His life is compartmentalized, although the catholic sections all appear the same, they are separate from each other. Her life is hidden, below the surface, only to reveal itself after a sudden rainstorm bringing life to a parched landscape. The grapefruit man loves the mushroom woman, but doesn’t understand her frequent fallowness; and though the mushroom woman loves her grapefruit man, she finds his thick skin a sufficient deterrent. Still, it is their life, filled with longing for a little grapefruitness on her part, or signs of mushrooming on his part. The secret, as you may have guessed, is that each understands the peculiar predilection of the other, but does not believe the reverse to be true. This is the source of their great sadness: that neither has faith in the affection of the other.