"Do you see that!?" He cried to me. "The sun and everything that is bright is you." A slender finger pointed to the sunlight pouring in softly from the drawn curtain that separated us. "And all this darkness, that is me." He said, standing in shadow. "We briefly touch but we can't be one." How could he, my love, think of me so? "Oh no.. How very wrong you are. For I am the light, and you are the dark, but we mold into one, the grey, the inbetween, the thriving storm. A shaken storm of dark cloud and illuminated thunder. That is what we are, my darling. Nothing more, nothing less. And I think that's okay."