Eu queria ser mais o que eu penso, e não o que eu digo. Ninguém traçaria um perfil equivocado e se sentiria logrado quando me conhecesse melhor. Mas enfim, eu não sou bem o tipo de pessoa que gostaria de conhecer melhor.
E eu não faço idéia do que quero dizer com isso, acho que simplesmente soou um alarme de defesa ou coisa do tipo. Lembrei do que Rose Walker disse para Desejo uma vez:
Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn’t it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life…You give them a piece of you. They didn’t ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn’t your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so a simple phrase like ‘maybe we should be just friends’ or ‘how very perceptive’ turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind.
