During the darkest days of my life, whenever it was late at night and loneliness and despair came relentlessly like cold rain, I would always involuntarily recall the night that decided my fate. At that time, I didn't know that my life was about to undergo a radical change.
My name is John Doyle, an average to average American. However, if I had to find something unusual in me, it would be that everything I once had-family, love, and career-was now in tatters, leaving me standing alone at the crossroads of my life, facing the unprecedented crisis of bankruptcy. Bankruptcy Crisis.
My restaurant, which had been the support of all my dreams and hopes, was now on the verge of closure due to a sudden recession. I had invested all my time, energy, and even my last penny, but I could not save this little store that I had treated like my own.
That night, I sat alone in the now-empty restaurant, the silence around me seeming to mock my failure. I opened a bottle of aged whiskey that I had left behind to celebrate the opening of the restaurant, not realizing that today would be the day to send it off. With each sip, my mood grew heavier.
I thought of Amy, my girlfriend, or rather, ex-girlfriend. She left me a few months ago for no other reason than she was fed up with my poverty and my dreams. She said she needed someone who could give her a stable life, not a dreamer who always fantasized about changing the world.
I also think of my family, who are disappointed in me to the core. To them, I was nothing but a failure, someone who couldn't even take care of himself. My father, who had always been my idol, had built something with his own two hands, while I couldn't even maintain a small restaurant.
My mind was filled with self-doubt and questions, what did I do wrong? Was it really like they said, that I was just an unrealistic dreamer, a doomed person?