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.

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.