I don't know where to start with an emotion that is difficult to describe. I just remember that my hair was very short that year. He always said that my hair was short and stiff, so I must be a very stubborn person. But at that time, I never did anything against his wishes. I even regarded being good to him as everything. I would help him with anything he could think of or couldn't think of. Well, at that time I thought I loved him, but later I discovered that during those bitter and lonely days, I would probably fall in love with anyone who saved me from the edge of suffocation. It didn't matter whether he was him or her, all I wanted was a kind of warmth, a feeling that made me feel needed and that I was still a human being after all. I think I probably just fell in love with my own fantasy. Don't take anything you write casually seriously~