This is a personal fiction story. Something is wrong it's right.That thing was right now is wrong. This story is about sometimes love doesn't need someone to be with. It feels like it must be true that they life is like that.Also tells that the tissue,pillow,bed,things you love can be a tool for happiness.How does it feel to be marginalized, ignored .It's like wanting a result without using any beginner's tools. Things want something great, the highest without support. Nothing important.