You are always colder in the dark, you shake my hand off whenever I reach for you. Every time I begin to talk you look distracted, if I complain you roll your eyes. You are so damn… not-you.

It’s hard for me, I won’t lie. The way the moment the sun goes down and you’re someone else, it messes me up. I try to breathe it out, remember myself that it’s the condition to be with you, the beautiful and amazing you that reigns during the light.

It’s night-time when you come back, god knows where have you been, you come in with a bag of groceries, but there’s no sight from where they might have been. I smile at you and tell you dinner’s ready, you emtionlessly mutter “Okay” under your breath and walk to our bedroom.

I sigh.

I look around our little apartment, there are some pictures of you and me, some paintings you made, and a picture of my mom and dad hanging on the walls, thinking how the warmer you had helped me hang those, when in the night you told me there was no reason to do so. I leave the four-foot long kitchen with a plate of sandwiches on my hand
and sit in front of the T.V.

“You shouldn’t eat on the couch, you’re going to leave crumbs everywhere” You are putting whatever you bought away as you say this. I hadn't even noticed you had left our bedroom.

“But you love eating on the co-“

“No, I don’t” You interrupt harshly, with a frown on your face, you walk towards me. A scary thought crosses my mind, but I quickly dismiss it, neither of you would.

You take a sandwich and go back to the kitchen, holding a small plate with your other hand right underneath it.
I bite my lower lip and rest my head abruptly on the edge of the couch. After breathing in and out one or two times, I turn to you and say, “Sorry”.

“Don’t worry about it. Just… Eat there, it’s fine”

I stand up, the sandwiches’ plate on my hand and join you in the kitchen. I’m about to hold your hand but I hesitate.
You don’t really like that, do you? Not when it’s dark.
I take my hand back and grab a tomato and tuna sandwich and munch a bit sadly.

I don’t really see you looking at me from the corner of your eye, looking away with a troubled look on your face.

The sun rises and you are smiling brightly again. You smother me with kisses the moment I wake up and ask me if I have time for breakfast.

“I always have time for breakfast!”

After washing my teeth, I find you sitting on the couch, eating scrambled eggs and some toasts with dulce de leche in front of you, waiting for me.
I basically squeal when I see the brown dressing on them, “What?! You bought it! I told you… y-you didn’t have to!”

You laugh delightfully and say, “I bought it last night, plus, it’s Tuesday, Getting-My-Baby-Nice-Things day”

I chuckle, “That’s totally not a thing”

“I’m making it a thing… Sorry about your b-day, love”

I wave it off and take your hand in mine, looking you straight in the eye so you know I mean it, “This is better”.

We eat up and talk through our breakfast, when you finally stand up, brush off the crumbs and say “Okay, babe, gotta go. See you at lunch?”
I nod absentmindedly as I stare at the crumbs on the floor and couch, but smile when you kiss me before rushing off, cursing about how late you were.

My smile slowly drops when the realization that the cold you was the one who bought my “Getting-your-baby-nice-things-day” present hits me.
Little by little I started noticing all the small things you did for me, and how the “cold” you, wasn’t really that cold at all.
And that’s when my smile grows again.

You walk in at exactly ten o’clock, like always, and I immediately jump to your arms. You freeze at my unexpected actions and almost let me fall.
“What’s going on?” you say, obviously confused by my change of attitude.

“You, my dear, are a sweetheart”

“…What? What are you even saying, God…” You say, letting me down gently on the ground and move on, but I hold you from the waist and follow you to the kitchen while hugging you.

I don’t miss though, this time, how you smile when you roll your eyes.
“What do you want for dinner?” I ask, finally releasing you. You shrug and I nod, “Whatever it is”

We are on our bed, you are reading and I’m staring at you, you haven’t realized it until you do as you always do and check on me out of the corner of your eye. You rise your eyebrows, as if asking for some sort of explanation, and I smile, saying “You know I love you, don’t you?”

First you look a bit surprised, then some sort of relief washes through your eyes for a second and you nod, as if nothing had happened and you had always known this.

Of course, I should have known it from the beginning as well, that even though you are not the same, I love both the light and dark you, not as a condition, not as something I have to endure, but as the way I should have been for the longest time, as the two wonderfully different people you are, with all your flaws and imperfections.