It was a few months ago that I started to dream, to hope for more. To hope for a better life not for me. Kind of selfish I know, but after years of sacrificing what I want for the happiness of others, I broke down. I stopped and for a year or more I was satisfied with what I have. But know I want more. More. More. More, so that I would be able to give more. More, so that I will be able to give my family their dreams. More, so that I will have something to give.
"My" being the operative word. MY dream. So that I would not impose on my future children the dreams that I wasn't able to achieve, if I had chosen to continue the path I walked for a while. MY dream. So that my happiness would not depend on how happy the people around me. MY dream. MINE. Mine to keep. Mine to share.

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