I Want You to Love Me
Her hands were still in her hair. She was trying to wipe her eyes, then she started bulging and realizing that her flowing makeup was broken. Pera, if your mom loves you, then can you give up the world's attention? Can you tell anybody not to love me? he asked.
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For him, the answer to this question was a key point. Most of the symptoms he showed would be sufficient for the diagnosis and he would understand with this answer. She doesn't like it. She doesn't like me all over the world, she's Mama and my dad. I always have to be good, and nobody likes me. Do you understand, am I right?
This is a great prejudice, Pera, before you have to give up this generalization. Then you ask yourself what you really want. the doctor had diagnosed the diagnosis.
For a while, the silence was mutual, and Pera cried in this silence, the doctor watched him, waited for Peruvian lips, waited peacefully. After the silence, Pera took a dull face.
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I decided what I wanted. I want you to love me. All of you. Because I want to be loved. Either I'm here or here, I want to love me. His voice was pleading. She was exhausted from the crying and her voice was narrowing.
I wanted something too much from you? I just wanted to love me.
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