Real inner

No one can know the real inner of the other. Not even his/her beloved. The pain remain individual, more than that, undiscovered, hidden till the end of its dead. Even if the road is for both, the steps are made differently, there are never identical. Two parts of a whole, to fulfill it, they had to be different. Therefore, in the end, even if we make part of something, we are still pieces. However unique pieces…