Some stories are born from love.
Others are born from survival.

This book explores what happens when the mind builds a life soft enough to live inside—when reality becomes unbearable, and imagination steps in not as escape, but as shelter.

At its heart, this is a story about connection: the kind that feels like home, the kind that teaches gentleness, the kind that makes broken things believe they are still worthy of care. It follows a life shaped by silence, longing, and the quiet hope that love does not have to hurt to be real.

As memory and meaning begin to blur, the line between what is lived and what is needed grows thin. Comfort turns fragile. Safety becomes uncertain. And the reader is invited into a deeply intimate question:

If something feels real enough to save you—does it matter where it came from?

Tender, unsettling, and emotionally resonant, this novel is a meditation on trauma, love, and the stories we tell ourselves to survive. It is not about fantasy—it is about the human instinct to endure, even if the heart must invent a place to land.

This is a book for readers who sit with emotion, who notice the quiet moments, and who understand that sometimes the most devastating truths arrive softly.