A sweet smelling aroma permeated the air. It was coming from a freshly baked cake. The occasion was unknown to me but naturally I was excited. My father carefully pulled out a knife and sliced me a giant chunk of the cake. As I reached for the cake I could feel saliva gathering in my mouth. The chocolate began to drip and my mouth continued to water. I smoothly cut a piece of the cake and slid it in my mouth. I savored the taste of the warm chocolate. At this point I knew that nothing could possibly go wrong. Nothing could ruin this moment.
Nothing - except the taste of a sweet cake going bitter.
I remember the day as if it were yesterday. The day that I felt my dreams had been shattered forever. The day I realized that my life, from then on, would never be the same.
This day was the life-changing moment in which my father had told me that my family was moving to Seoul, Korea.
I was only eight years old at the time, and the reality of losing my beloved friends to a factor as menial as distance frightened me. It took me many long hours to digest the information I had been given. I tried to be optimistic at first, but found that the only idea that might better the situation was to think of how I would get to experience my mother's Korean culture firsthand. Even optimism could not save me. To think of having to go to a new land which, at this time I ignorantly thought of as a third world country, was severe. I was not yet ready to start my life anew. To me, the commute to Korea was like being thrown out of an...