She is my light.

If I am lost in darkness, she is holding out a candle. Rather than stumbling blindly trying to find my way I look towards her blinding beauty. But she is so fantastic that it burns, it pains me to touch her. My coolness and her warmth can never come in contact without sizzling and withering. The feeling is unbearable and yet the pleasure of being so near to her almost always outweighs it. We aren't "compatible" and I worry if someone came along who was they'd steal her, my light. But we are perfect for each other, fire and ice, yin and yang. She completes me, I complete her.

She is my love.