I am not myself

We were born one, uno. Then someone on Earth (probably a man) decided to break us, separating us from what we were and expelling us to two different parts leaving us to life. And we lived; we became these two living-breathing-walking-talking-beings who do not really know what they are, because the darkness of the world made us blind to what we were, like diving into an induced amnesia by the surrounding ugliness. And we lived; euphorically, between extreme good and bad, great and awful, for the balance was lost with birth. But as one, uno, we pursued the same dreams and followed the same path constructed differently until we found each other. This 'other' that was once the 'same'. And we found that we could regain what was once lost, even inhabiting two different bodies; physical never meant much to us anyways, for this world never seemed ours. Hence we started our quest against everyone else, closing us to the outter space where we lived just for personal amusement. And wherever we went, we knew where we belonged to. Somehow the brutal horror of the Earth started to break us apart from within, and our clashing living-breathing-walking-talking-beings became self-destructive, and that was something more that we could ever take; because even though we could fight the physical break-up of the uno, we had never known what it was to be really broken. And that was what being without each other, the 'other' that became then 'stranger', meant. It meant being broken, from within, without our part, deprived from our real being, body, shape, substance, essence. Deprived from us. The 'us' that was once a single 'I'.