"And when you live for so long, see so much, you lose the wonder. But those who haven't had those experiences, they can be excited for you. I think there's a lot at play with this addiction to friendship and sharing these experiences with those who can appreciate them as new."
Clara was all too familiar with the concept of mortality. Losing her parents, then Samuel, all of which just compounded on one another to make her even more neurotic in her worrying than she had been before. It was a complicated web of emotions, but she somehow made it work. Or at least she tried to. She was usually good at not letting it overwhelm her. Usually. Until talk of burning started to come into play, then she got a bit more upset and more worried and desperate to find a way to fix it.
"Is that really so shocking though? I mean, we love complex characters because they're like us. No one is perfect or infallible, but sometimes when we recognise aspects of ourselves in characters that are too real, or we want to say we wouldn't do, we react negatively. Of course it's more terrifying and less fascinating when it's real, because we aren't looking at these traits through the filter of a story."
Clara had a long rant about that one, people disliking characters because they were too much like them. But that was something else entirely.
"Still, maybe it is just you."
As Troy started to discuss how the Doctor seemed to be running from his failings, Clara sat back and sipped her tea, just listening. It made sense. She hadn't seen much of the Doctor, not really, not enough to know for certain. For her, he just seemed excited about showing her things she wouldn't get to see. Had been so keen to protect her. Maybe that running from his failures played into it, who knew.
"It's fine, Troy, really. Though I probably will have to stay on your couch tonight." Not that she cared. Clara flitted from flat to flat and it wasn't as if Troy had never stayed on her couch before. And she doubted that such situations wouldn't come up again later.