Your inner life and your public face pull at right angles inside the same body, grinding past each other without quite shaking hands. The Sun squares the Moon, emotional intimacy held under load against the identity that wants to be seen. Shine outward and you slight your inner house a little. Close down to feel and the guilt of not doing creeps in. The price ran through years of feeling like two people depending on the room, worn out by the constant translation. Out of it came someone who refuses to betray either home. A grown identity carries both in one body, neither apologizing to the other. Out of the strain you welded an integration almost nobody manages.