The whole…

Nobody knows you completely. Not one person.. nah!.. Not even yourself. Because you are not who you think you are. Its just a part of you. Who you are is what you are to the people you know and the lives you touch. What you are to the other person is you.. rather a part of you. The emotions, the connect, the conversations is that part of you. And all these parts put together is the real you.
So I don’t have anybody in full. I have only one part of everyone. What they are to me, they are not to another person. The equations are different. What is constant is only the equal to sign.
So technically, nobody is mine. A part of them is mine. And unfortunately, its not until death tears us apart, that we see all the parts or atleast most of it. When all the parts come together to bid one final goodbye to the person that was.. and this realization dawns on you, that yes, she gave birth to you, your whole is a part of hers, yet, you are only a part of her whole..
Β 

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