When she first laid eyes on him, she became instantly enraged. 'Who in the hell does this guy think he is? She had  always been the weird one, the alternative one, the one with the most flesh paintings; but no longer--she had met her match. They worked at night, in the hours when most of the world fell into slumber they labored so that the Daywalkers would have their supplies when they wiped the sleep from their eyes. The nights were long, at times they seemed unending, and she saw him often. At first their stations were next to one another and she would insult him, or at least try to insult him, every opportunity she had. As the weeks passed, she noticed their was something pure about him; something beautiful. The insults became conversation peppered with insults and he always took it in stride.
She was moved to another station and did not see him as often, but as unexpectedly as he had arrived he now possessed her. He was in the shadows of her every thought. She found every excuse to be see him, to be near him.  More weeks passed and they often laughed at one another and sometimes together. They played together like children whenever they could, or rather when ever she could trick him into being a part of whatever childish game she had devised to pass the time. She loved him like a third grader on the playground, a punch to the shoulder or the ego, she loved him like a child; intense and naive.
One night she began to laugh an uncontrollable laugh from deep within what was left of her soul, for the plague  of zombie dust had ravaged the town and she had been a victim, the laugh was pure joy and carried over to his station. When he heard the laugh he began to laugh loud and strong. She heard his laugh and continued hers from the joy of his. Before they were even aware of it they had wandered towards the laughter, towards each other. When their as met hers widened,--she knew him, she had always known him. They had been together in almost every life they had lived, they had been lovers and fraternal twins, he was her animus and when they were united they were one with each other and one with all things. In a flash she relived their entire past since the time of the gods and he looked away.
It tortured her as the night turned to day and then to night again. She never slept. She hadn't for years, the zombie dust made sure of that. She knew she was ugly. Blackened were her teeth, eyes, and soul. 'Its is this ugliness, this selfish indulgence that his soul doesn't recognize' she thought. She fell into deep despair, she fell deeper into the dust. She had no idea how to make his soul recognize her and she began to go mad. Her behavior around him became erratic and often mean. Several months passed and the light of his beauty was so bright it hurt to look at him. When she could bear it no longer, she left to become a Daywalker. She hoped she could cure herself him, of the dust or die, she didn't care which. It occurred to her that the life she had been living was no life at all.
Her quest for a life, any life at all was long. There was so much to do and healing takes time. Years passed and every time things seemed hopeless, she would hear his laugh. After a time he became a Daywalker too, whenever she was about to give up the fates would bring them together for but a moment; just enough for her to remember that she loves therefore she is alive, just enough to keep going. She tried to forget him. There were even times that months would pass with barely a thought of him, but he always crept in eventually. She would hear a song or have a dream, he was always there in the shadows of her thoughts and in the joy of her soul. She overcame her sickness, she breathed new life into her own soul, she fed her intellect. If she had been a disgusting Caterpillar when they had met, then now she was indeed a beautiful Butterfly. She wonder if his soul would now recognize her. Then she did not see him for a very long time, she wondered if he had moved on or gone home. He was not a native and had not been affected by the plague, he was free and could be anywhere.  She asked the humming bird to find her man. If he was around there would be no hiding from the energetic little flyer.
One day the humming bird returned with news....Ah! but I see the sun is rising and there is still much to tell, I will have to continue the story another night.

Suggested listening: "Vicarious" and "Jambi" by TOOL, "Southern Cross" by Crosby, Stills, and Nash,
                                "Amie" by Pure Prairie League