I don’t want to leave them. Please don’t take them away from me.

I was once a kid too. And when I was growing up, my mother and father weren’t the best people. I love them, but I would want different parents if I had the choice. And once I realized that my dream was set in stone.

While my friends were dreaming about going to the moon or becoming famous musicians, I dreamed of having a love that was so healthy and happy.

So, you can imagine the devastation in my heart when the law was passed.

_Everyone must attempt their childhood dreams before becoming a functioning person in our society. Even if you have achieved it, you must move forward. We generously give you until the end of tday to move forward. If not, we will force you. Good luck, the Elders. _

It was just a regular Tuesday for me. I made breakfast for my family, pancakes and eggs for my son and daughter, and a sausage and cheese sandwich for my husband. The aroma danced around our house, and not until long, I heard the scuttling sound of my daughter’s steps run down to the kitchen. Her older brother’s quieter footsteps trailed behind her, followed by my husband’s.

He wrapped his arms around me, picking me up and laughing before kissing me all on my face. Our children looked at each other before my youngest yelled, “Ew! Mommy and Daddy are always kissing!”

Her older brother looked back at us and smiled with a mouth full of food, "Oooh! That just means that they love each other."

That's when the announcement went off. That's when the realization set in. I only met him because we had the same childhood dream. We dreamed of it at the same time, we went to the higher ups that same day, and we went to go get coffee the next morning.

I immediately walk up to my babies, hugging them. In between sobs, I manage to choke out a few words, "Promise me, that you'll never dream of a love like me and your father's okay? Promise me that you'll dream to be a pilot, or a famous dancer." They look at me with furrowed brows and eyes full of concern, but eventually nod their heads.

Pulling my husband into our room, I fall to my knees. "They can't do this to me. This is all I ever wanted. I love you. I love the kids. I can't just---I can't just let go of you."

He holds me with gentle arms, stroking my back while I sob into him. I can hear his heart pumping too, and I can feel his tears land on me. After a moment, he speaks up, "You should pack your things. I'll help." He pulls a suitcase from under our bed, neatly folding clothes then putting them into the baggage. Suddenly, they kicked our door down, and picked me up from off of the floor.

I just held my head down, trying to drown out the screams of my children and the cries of my husband.

And at the end of it all, I turned around only for him to give me a small smile. It was the kind of smile you would miss if you blinked. But it was enough for me to recognize, because I knew that smile. It meant, 'I'll never forget you.' He gave me that same smile when he left to go to the military, as a part of his required service. As they drag me away, my childhood dream of a perfect love story finally faded. And only then did I realize, my life isn't a love story. It's just a story about love.