I am mystery. I hide all I can, and God forbid someone sees through my cloak. That's why I like the darkness: it is easier to remain unseen, unnoticed. I am the darkness myself, in my thoughts and memories and feelings and speech, in every possible meaning of that word.
I've always been happy about that; proud, even. Society overrates light.
But then I met her. She, who is pure, bright light. Who shows herself to me and lets herself be known. She, who lightens everything around her, and makes me realize that darkness is no more than the lack of light.
I am no more than the lack of her.