Because it's the halves that halve you in half

I thought I understood it, that I could grasp it, but I didn't, not really. 

Only the smudgeness of it; the pink-slippered, all-containered, semi-precious eagerness of it. I didn't realize it would sometimes be more than whole, that the wholeness was a rather luxurious idea. 

Because it's the halves that halve you in half.

 I didn't know, don't know, about the in-between bits; 

the gory bits of you, and the gory bits of me.