I am an unapologetic morning person.
I love mornings.
I love the cool semi-darkness before the sun hoists itself up over hills, and trees, and condos before spying in on me. I love the morning noises and smells, of dogs barking and eager to release bladders, of groggy non-morning people shuffling around their shadowy places, stumbling with the routine of making coffee, trying to put the day off as much as possible. I love mornings for its promise of a new day with possibilities, its newness, fresh and unused. A present everyday. I usually wake up at a dead run. I'm up, cognizant, and most likely can win $1,000,000 on one of those shows where that is showcased as the top prize.

Rich is a night person. He sleeps until the morning was no longer. He is up and running once the sun waves goodbye to me and slides under the blanket of night. I know the lure for him is the quiet that night offers. The yappy, distraction of a pretty-brown-girl has been tucked into bed and most likely snoring away. When most people are winding down he's just cranking on, and I believe the solitude is as promising as the idea of millions of people waking up with me thrills me.

Opposites attract, what can I say?

Me.