“Watching John with the machine, it was suddenly so clear. The terminator wouldn’t stop, it would never leave him. It would never hurt him or shout at him or get drunk and hit him or say it was too busy to spend time with him. And it would die to protect him. Of all the would-be fathers that came over the years, this thing, this machine, was the only thing that measured up. In an insane world, it was the sanest choice.”
When you've finally fully resolved both the complex dynamics and difficult balance of having/being a clone, despite the unique perspectives gained from individual experiences it all comes down to sameness.
Much like the unique relationship John Connor had with Cameron Philips - a relationship no one understood nor trusted, so it is with your clone. Its impossible to hurt your clone's feelings, or to say the wrong things. If what you say to your clone could be taken two ways, one complimentary and the other derogatory, your clone automatically knows which you were trying to convey without hesitation. You'll never accidentally harm your clone, nor be harmed by your clone. There are no walking surfaces ever paved with eggshells where your clone is concerned, and you will never, ever tire of your clone.
Sameness, however isn't without its own hurdles. Given my well-documented introversion and all that surrounds it, most notably the requirement to disassociate, for a time, from people to spend time completely alone - the inclusion of my clone could be seen as a snub. The fact is, just like being with projections on a holodeck or shacking up with a terminator, spending time with your clone is being alone insofar as no resources are being drained and you're not forced to interact. While mirrors may reflect flaws we choose to ignore, clones reflect only that which we wish to see.