I don’t know how strong I’ll be if I move to a foreign country and try to speak in another language with fluent speakers. Especially, I don’t know how strong I’ll be if I don’t have a network of my friends or the same white house with green board, the old streets with blinking road lamps, and sounds of cars whizzing by during the dark of night. I can’t rear myself away from the scent of jasmine that drifts through my window during long summer nights and the sound of the sprinklers completing a morning routine.