I hate being one with you. Because with you, I can't care less about everything in the world. I once stubbornly thought that I like elegant and gentle things. I was so wrong. I only like you. In the mirror, in the heart, in the tens of billions of neurons in the brain, when billions of star particles smash into the same body, when I fall and get up every time, when I am willing to wander decadently and you are willing to accompany me without any reason, when I am rampant and unable to struggle, when I struggle to resist and chase bravely, every day and night, when my parents, friends, and even myself give up on myself, you are still there.
My left hand clenched my right hand, and my body slowly curled up. I know you like me, so don't hold me so tightly.
You are the best version of me and I am the worst version of you.
Oneself and one's own love (the protagonist does not have mental illness, is not one body with two souls, and does not engage in black technology)
An ordinary girl falls in love with her extraordinary self
Purpose: It's enough for girls to like themselves