I need a new comfort zone.

There is no such thing as autumn in Lahore, which is why I forgot what it's like in America. Oh my goodness, it's beautiful. It's breathtakingly beautiful, and the major regret I have after the breakup is that. I am so busy numbing my mind to the breakup, that it takes up all my energy and does not allow me to enjoy the simple things. I want to sit on my balcony and watch the leaves fall. While doing my UWorld tests online, I catch a glimpse out my window sometimes, of these rust colored leaves falling. And they just flutter down and  I cannot describe in words how beautiful they look.
I must give time to feeling all of this again. The magic of the changing seasons.

Go back a few years on this blog, and you'll see my craziness about a guitarist named Billy Martin. Obviously the obsession fizzled out since 2011 but I always still thought he was good looking, and seeing him again in any new songs or on his Facebook would warm my heart with nostalgia. Like...Sigh, look at Billy, all growing up (he's 35 and married with kids. I'm weird) It was nothing short of a miracle to think I could go to a Good Charlotte concert, let alone meet him, since I lived in Pakistan and they only toured in Europe, USA, or Australia.

Guess who's going to do both next weekend? Oh yes.
I am fulfilling my teenage dream, haha and it feels so damn good. I wish Kt was coming with me because she obsessed over Billy the same way I did. I am a bit nervous because I'm wondering what question I'm supposed to ask him. I'll plan something by the time of the concert. And then early entry, to choose any spot I want for the show? YES. I'll stand right in front of Billy, lol.

USMLE Step 1 is two months away. I have been studying hardcore but I still don't feel prepared enough. I am going to step up my game from tomorrow, of memorization. It's really important.

When the leaves fall.

I am so selfish, aren't I? I'll tell you why. Because the day I make the hardest decision of my life, I run here and decide to vent it all out. Is it selfish, or is it therapeutic and self preserving?

You know those huge coffee mugs? I need one of those. I feel like it'll make me very, very happy. More happy than is required.

H has not been mentioned in a long, long time. Properly mentioned. There was a blip of him in the last post, because he was going to be one of the things I would remember since I left Lahore. And now it's happened. Done. Finito. We aren't together anymore.
For anyone who is reading this and is either going through a breakup themselves, or now somebody who is, please do not underestimate their struggle and their whining. I cannot believe how many friends I have, to talk to about this and be a bitch and whine and they all hear me out. What did I do to deserve this, I wonder.

With time, I'm guessing it'll be more and more discussed in this space, but for now suffice it to say that I still believe I made the right decision and the fact of the matter has not penetrated fully yet. Oh, and I did the actual breaking up, and he agreed. He likes to think it was a mutual decision, but it wasn't. I made it. He went along with it, though.

Taking life, and steps, one at a time now. USMLE, four months to go. Let's kick some residency ass.

Coffee and cigarettes.

I didn't want life to do this. I didn't want to become so busy that everything became superficial, unable to penetrate the surface. I fell into the same rut that all adults fall into; monotonous routine, day in and day out. I miss writing. More than that, I miss reading. I miss reading other people's words and blogs and letting the words sink into me and touch some part of me that related to it all. Words that made me close my eyes and take a deep breath, and would make me feel satisfied for the day.

May 4th was the last blog post I wrote, over two months ago. I have since crossed oceans, moved to the United States, back with my parents and siblings. I have graduated from med school, Alhamdulillah, and obtained my Bachelor's. I have helped move into another better house here where I live. I've learned to drive, and got my permit and license within a month. I have started preparation for the next phase of my life, which is residency in a US hospital. So physically, there have been changes. Inside, my heart is in Lahore, and in a million pieces.

 My heart is with H, who I won't see for the next 8 months. My heart is with Kt and my niece, who I won't see God knows when. My heart is with A, whose availability and like-mindedness made final year (and my last year in Pakistan) worth it. A small piece of my heart is also in Karachi, that opened my eyes and made them brighter. I miss Pakistan intensely. More so because I don't have anybody here. We came to a state and town where nobody knows us and we know nobody. I don't know if Dad intended for that to happen. It's a beautiful town. The hills offsetting the back make me feel like I'm in Islamabad and the greenery is to die for. But do I feel like I'm in the States? No. Not at all.

So your heart is not where your home is, your heart is where your people are. But we have consistently been told not to make homes out of human beings.

The motivation to tredge on through this life and this struggle must come from within. All my closest friends live upstate, and the simple matter of the fact is that I can't afford to see them. Me and my family are working tirelessly to assimilate in this society, understand the system (it has changed so much since we left in 2003) and to create our niche. Everyone has told me the struggle will happen, and it is real. The struggle is years long, and it will be hard. And hearing that makes me feel a wee bit better, but it doesn't stop me from longing for my old carefree life in Lahore. Every step you take to get older just gets more harder, and we long for the past problems. I long for the days where all I had to worry about was studying for a Surgery test. Adulting, this is.

Days are full, goals are present.
I am insanely addicted to my phone, and I think I'm on it all the time because I'm trying to distract myself from thinking and remembering how much I miss my people. But the phone addiction needs to stop.

I'm going to try to keep myself more updated on this blog, to rejuvenate it as an outlet for when I can't talk to anybody, which happens more so now than it did before.


I leave you with a picture of the stunning hills mentioned.

One night to be confused.

I am waiting for the day when this blank cyber sheet doesn't intimidate me. I think being a writer/blogger doesn't come to me naturally anymore.

I am becoming more and more of an introvert each day. I love wasting time on my phone, and I find myself switching between the same four basic apps that everyone has, and even after everything is checked, I go through Search to find something, anything. The analyst in me says I do this to avoid faxing the world, or facing reality (if we want to go that deep). I am going to make an active effort to stop doing this. Active effort in my brain, atleast.

Game of Thrones ftw.

I was remembering me several years ago. Who had the patience of a frikkin saint, Who would sit in Daewoo bus no. 10 for an hour  to reach the stop, and then walk home in the broiling 45 degree heat. Where did she go? Patience has become thin in my life. I want it back, because that was a calmer part of me. Now I'm just restless, All the time.

Hmm. I am starting all my paragraphs with "I".

Today after a very long time I let music run through my veins and my body and let it sway me. E's car, Zephyr by the Red Hot Chili Peppers, and Muse. I felt like my younger self again and I loved it. Being in my own little music video and looking out the window, watching a Lahori night unfold in front of my eyes. Life feels older and harsher now. A change I knew would happen. But I want these younger moments to happen more and more, because there's a magic to them. Silly me didn't know she had magic in her all the time, and now a twenty something is desperately trying to find it again.

I asked him to be Superman, just for this week, this last week. Sigh. Leave him to his own devices.

In a rickshaw, on Monday afternoon, wearing my orange floral kurta, going to college to get my MSPE done, the hot air of Lahore made me think that I'll soon be touching and breathing American air. And then that feeling returned. American. Air. Fuck, I'm flying to America in a week. Alhamdulillah. Thank you Allah for having this written in my plan.

Lahoreeeee what did you do? You made me go from a tween hating you, to an adult loving you. The attachment I have for this city is so. Suffocating. In the best way possible.

Red Raw Dust.

I have been in a bad habit of staying up till 5am, and then waking up around 12pm. Today was different, today I woke up a tad earlier (11am) and I went out with H. 23 days left, till I leave. I should be making the most of each day but I don't. Some days I just roam about the house, doing random things.
I'm in love with my niece, Z. I don't know if she has been mentioned before in this blog. I will check right now. Okay, she's been mentioned indirectly. When she was born, and this is the strangest thing to say, I felt like I've known her for years. She was a new face but I felt like she was always a part of our lives. Her face and her mannerisms are so familiar to me, and this feeling is beautiful.
Pressure and stress are sort of getting the best of me, since I have so many things to do, and the first thing I should do is write them all down. But alas, I cannot bring myself to do it. I am free till the evening tomorrow so I will sit down and write a list. First thing after breakfast.
Meeting with Faizi tomorrow. These farewells. Sigh.
I have been ripping up all of my journals. I have kept journals since 2006, and I have six of them. I am reading through every post, and ripping them up. It's dead weight that I can't take back to the States, and it's time I've moved on. I was 15 when I started writing those, and even though I would occasionally read back entries and think oh, I'm the same person...I read them now and think Who the hell was that? That angsty, miserable person? Not that I'm amazingly happy right now, but I get by with my days of contentment and accomplishments. I see my raging struggle with my self esteem. I see my indecision about becoming a doctor, and considering Psychology and BBA. I see my puppy love about my ex. I see H being occasionally mentioned in some posts, and as a friend at most. I see my anxiety about exams, and wanting to top and pass each one. All I see in them are negativity. I want to be able to leave Pakistan physcially as well as mentally and emotionally. And getting rid of these journals will do that. E suggested burning them in one go. That was too harsh for me. I have to go through them once more atleast.


I miss the red sandstone that AKU buildings were made of.

Constellations.

So many events and occasions happen, that by the time I get around to opening this up, I don't know where to start and where to end. So, I'm going to write as much as I remember, and then make a vow to jot down anything that's on my mind.

I moved to Karachi for the month of March to do an internship. Writing it down, compacting it into one sentence, does not do it justice. I was excited to execute the first formal adult decision of my post graduate life. I sound silly, I know. But the feeling I had was bigger than anything I can write down. I only wish I wrote about every single day I was there, because it sure was eventful. It did get boring sometimes as well; I remember sleeping in till 3-4pm on my days off, wake up to have food, only to sleep again. But then there were days where I was having my on call dinner with A at Xander's at 1 in the morning, eating at a dhaba and feeling safe, walking to the water on the beach and letting it wash over me. And the breeze, the Karachi breeze will never be forgotten. I also remember feeling like Karchi was everything I imagined it would be, and also some new feelings developed for it as well. In the first few days, Karachi didn't feel like a part of Pakistan at all. I can't describe it any other way. But after awhile, it did.

Back to Lahore. Back to familiarity, and security, and greenery, and a place I can call home. I felt like my soul sighed of relief when I landed back here. I can't describe it; Lahore is such an amazing city for me.
Growing up and moving here, I was devastated. I felt like the U.S was my identity, and Pakistan was my bus stop. I would be moving back to the States soon, and this horrible nightmare would be over. There were nights where I would forcefully dream about Times Square and the bright lights, and feel my heart swell and I would get so excited and think, Yes. I will go back soon and then I will be the happiest person ever. If me and my sister were going through a rough patch regarding studies, parents, or boys, America was our getaway in our head. We will be back inshAllah, we said, and then everything will be alright. This illusion carried on till I was atleast 21. Even when I was asked if I would be okay after ending things with H, I said "If I move back to the States, I'll definitely be okay."
The illusion is gone. America is no longer enticing. Maybe when I go back and experience it for myself, it will be different. But I can't say for sure.

More in the next post. This was just a brief background story and it's been sitting in the Drafts for too long.