Many people have heard the stories of poverty and suffering in another country. Some countries have to live in a dictatorship with no chance of freedom. Other countries are always at war, and are in constant fear that they might die in the night. My story is the story of Cuba. The country that I live for, and die for with each and every breath that I take. My story is a story of love, a love for my country a love for my family and a love for freedom. My story is a story of hate, hate for my country and hate for the reluctance to conform. My story is a story of pain, pain in my country, pain in my family and pain with my desire to dream. This is my story, my journey, and my pain. For my story there are thousands and thousands of Cuban stories that have not been told, all of them different however all of them with one thing in common...the pain.