SetubalIEN

My fear, Clementina, is this intimacy thing. How terrifying, Clementine. Imagine someone capable of invading that private world that I created inside of me, someone that crosses this shining and light-filled image that I projected out and made of my shell. How terrifying to imagine finding out I'm not that good... I need. I need this, Clementine. If they don't believe in this incredible, magnificent shell of mine, then how am I going to be able to believe in it? And if I don't believe in it, how will I be able to accept the love of the others? You're wrong… No, I don't think love needs justification. But maybe I just believe that I'm not worthy of love without interests. It doesn't seem sensible to me. Me as me, it's just me. It doesn't seem like a logical decision for someone to love this self without qualities; this self full of ills and, at the same time, this self so ordinary, so irrelevant. That's why I need to be good, Clementina. Not in the essence of the word, but I need to