Half everything.

 I sleep in half sleeps. 

I dream in half dreams.

To the last hundred days (old revived post)

I wrote this in August 2019. Had it saved and never finished it. And I'm not going to finish it, I'm going to just hit publish. Because unfinished is sometimes how I feel.

A lot can happen in a hundred days. 

I could get married. 

I could uproot my whole existence and decide to start it in a brand new state 800 miles away, with a brand new being.

I could become a person who starts drifting to sleep at 11pm, when at one point I was a night owl.

But.

I couldn't tell you why I blast my music while driving home from the hospital, and listen to Cornelia street and remember H. 

I couldn't tell you because I don't know. It's not like I miss him. There was no "him". There was the figment of him, the belief that he was someone good and pure, when in reality he was just like all the others. I feel nothing. I just like the nostalgic feeling of heartbreak sometimes. Maybe to remember what I've lost? Or simply to relish in how far I've come.
I wish I could cook. I feel so guilty coming home every night with food from the hospital for me and the husband, knowing that I've gained 10 pounds and it's not due to the wedding, it's due to gross hospital food. Plus at one point you tend to start thinking about where your food comes from. And you just want to make your own. Simple. We have an Instant Pot. I found a blog with desi Instant Pot recipes. I will make some.
Everything I've worked for is finally here, and I'm finally living it. And I don't mind waking up at 4 in the morning, or coming back at times when the sky is dark, meaning I never saw the light that day. The hours pass by so fast, it's unreal and amazing at the same time. I just wish there were more hours in the day so I wouldn't have to plan my days off like a military schedule.
The husband. Known him for nearly three years. Living with him is a whole new ball game. It's taking its time. It's learning, and unlearning, and relearning. It's all new.

Of tide and time.

When somebody tells you that your life can change in a moment, and all previous feelings you've had before can calm down with time, believe it. 

I opened up this journal for the first time in a very long while and read previous posts- and it feels like a past life. I don't remember feeling the ways I mentioned. I see very clearly now how me and H had a hollowed-out relationship, basically friends with deep feelings if you will. How I had to rearrange everything, my very soul to fit into his schedule, his lack of communication, everything. Reading all those old posts in succession put in into perspective. But that's neither here nor there. I haven't spoken to him directly in four years. 

It's a new H now. Let's call him HQ. And we're married. what? It's been 1.5 years. See what I mean by time and life changing in a moment? Who knows, maybe this blog might become the grievance committee for his wrongdoings. Or it may be a marriage experience journal. My wedding was everything I wanted it to be. Royal, dark, gold, Mughal-esque. That's a little unfair though. He is miles ahead of what H was. And in a lot of other ways, miles behind. I'll talk about that some other time. 

I wrote in another post about doing USMLE and "trying to kick residency ass" (God I thought I was so cool) well, I'm kicking it. A year and a half into it already. It feels like a dream at times, to finally be doing what I've been planning for the past 3 years. And now that I'm in it, I'm so consumed by it that I forget to be grateful at times. I stop in the hallways of my hospital and times and think wait. this is it. i'm in it. my career. my life. I still definitely struggle with keeping myself present but I'm trying. 

I'm sitting on my comfy bed, in a beautiful tropical state, working for a university program...this is eons and eras away from where I was just 5 years ago. H is still where he is. A Hajj travel agent I think. And also a voice artist for some Instagrammer. I'm amused. 

This post is probably lacking some poise and wisdom. I'm just coming back to terms with my writing side. Blogging is slightly harder when you're in a happier place. I could flow more easily when I was sad. 

Until then, here's a glimpse of new life.

Reshelve.

Everytime I start to write a new blog post, I always tend to look at my last one, like it's the last checkpoint. To recollect everything that happened since, and to update it in the new post.
Not today. Today I'll write how I feel.
I'm listening to music that stretching my heartstrings tight.
I Fall Apart by Post Malone.
I never realized how important my sanity was,until I started making tremendous decisions to save it. Even at the expense of other people's feelings. Is this part of being an adult?
Becoming more impatient and less tolerant of other people's bullshit simply because you don't have the mental capacity for it anymore.
Happiness has never been more vital until now. Joy used to come more easily than this, with smaller things.
And now, some days I find it simply in waking up and breathing.
I'm in the university library studying and relieving my anxiety. I never used to be a library person back in med school; my bed and a pillow were the best study tools. Now this place is literal oxygen.
I still talk to H in the car when I'm alone and immersed in my thoughts.  
Step 2 CK exam in 29 days.
New H will remain undiscussed. Something closer to my heart I suppose, and something I refuse to dissect on the internet. I'll do it in my head, thank you very much.
All the H milestones have been crossed.

I fall apart
down to my core
Didn't know it before
Surprised when you caught me off guard

I like the cold, but I'm also always cold.

I used to think that it was only Lahori winters that I loved; it isn't. I just love fall and winters in general. An American fall begins, and I swear there is a smell in the air, and that smell is not present in the summer. Fall is my favorite season.

I love my phone and all, and I love technology, and I finally have an iPhone (For those of you who can tolerate going back hundreds of posts, I've always been a bit of a follower and a basic B at heart, and I've wanted an iPhone) but it still can't replace the clacking of the keys with purpose like a laptop can. Which is why I don't keep up with blogging if I'm not usually opening up my laptop. And I haven't opened it up in a while.

I work part time. I study part time. I'm making an effort to go to the gym. I'm trying to be the best version of myself I can be. It's hard. Nobody tells you that to be the best version, you have to cut out your splurges and luxuries and excess, and stop being lazy and try to make every minute of your day productive.
I say this alot: "Nobody tells you". It's like the world is my enemy, and I'm always fighting back saying "See?! You didn't tell me this would happen!" Which is pointless because there are oh so many things you are going to learn on your own man. And you can't turn back and blame someone/ the world for not telling you.

I have discovered new facets of myself that I love and also new facets of myself that I detest. I'm working on the one I hate, to turn it into something more bearable.

H posted on Instagram today. It's a habit I can't seem to break, though the good news is that I don't have any attachment behind the habit, I just do it mindlessly. It was a picture on a highway with a setting sun and the caption wrote "A shooting sun and a getaway." (Shooting sun? Really? Your wit is gone, my friend. The very same wit I fell in love with 9 years ago.) He's back in Pakistan. I didn't even feel his presence here in the States. He stuck to his word, he didn't contact me. Both feeling good and feeling solemn about that. A little pathetic to admit, but what the hell.

I have milestones to cross, and the first one is coming up in a few days. September 10, our anniversary AND the day we ended things. It's going to be one whole year. Fantastic. Then December 12, the last time I heard his voice on the phone. Then January 31, the last time we ever had an interaction. Three milestones, a weaning off, a dying of a relationship. I sometimes marvel at how I spent eight years of my time and energy on something that was going to end. But that's too negative. I have to stop thinking like that.

I'll hopefully keep writing in here more. You all don't know about new H yet. 

Odyssey.

Self reflection on the road:

1. The only rap song I've actually made an effort to memorize is Lose Yourself by Eminem. I wrote down the lyrics on paper and spent hours memorizing it. The only other rap song I have memorized is Airplanes which features Hayley Williams, and that's because I've listened to it so many times. A rap song I would like to memorize is Superbass by Nicki Minaj.

2. I like to be completely aware of my surroundings; I don't know how to be any other way. Consequently, I've never lost my phone in my life. Knock on wood.

3. History is a big deal for me. It fascinates me how people used to be in previous times. Especially the Holocaust. Strangers who find this out about me might think I''m morbid; I understand that but it's far from it. It's just heartbreaking and interesting. And even more sad that I'm seeing glimpses of that era today.

4. I've mentioned this in another post, but I think I'm turning into H. And I don't want him to have that over me. I refuse to believe he took the best of me with him and the relationship. It's a constant struggle inside me to remind myself to be nicer, less sarcastic, less mocking.

This post was a draft and I've since lost my train of thought. So I will simply publish this.

Grey satin.

This year...oh this year.
I do not want to come off as overly cynical and say this was a bad year, nay, the worst year I have experiences in all my 26 years of living (I said it, didn't I) but it was. Four to five major highlights and the lows were worse than the highs. The first half of the year sped up like it was trying to catch a train and the second half was so drawn out, so agonizing, as if to make me feel every second of 2016.

2016 was about mindset changes, about realizations, and most importantly about losing.
About losing someone that I thought would always be there.
 If anyone out there needs reminding: ACTIONS count more than words.
If you need an example, always use mine: I was with a man for eight years who promised he would marry me, and he left. He told me he was a man of his word, that he never makes promises lightly, and that made me trust him more than anything else could. But they were only things he said; in retrospect, he didn't do anything to uphold that promise. And if I questioned it, it was pushed away. "I don't want to talk about this tonight". Tonight turned into the three years, the end of which I was holding a medical degree in my hand and a suitcase in the other, ready for the next stage of my life. And his feet were rooted and unwilling.

The moving on is currently happening, the moving on is tough. I do not wish him the best, I do not wish him happiness. Not yet. Let the anger and resentment flow for awhile. It's only been three months since. It all takes its own time, and you can't compare your struggle with anyone else's. So just let it be and let it flow.

Other than that. Graduation. Karachi. Coming to the United States. Good Charlotte. YES. Things happened. They made me insanely happy. And that's what it's about. Small joys.

Believe in the power of now, and small joys.

Oh, something else I learned, and even though it was a hard lesson, I loved learning it.
My worst fears came true, and I did not die.
I did not break and contemplate suicide, I did not wither away, I did not hide. I wore it on my face and I trudged on. Some days, I felt like I was submerged under water. Others, I was high.
Rock bottom didn't feel like total dark rock bottom to me. I'm thinking because it was that innate sense of being human, that led me to survive. Survival mode, A calls it. Survival mode is a part of us, and it is so important.

So, 2017, bring it on.