What Next?

Have you ever asked yourself that question?

I bet everyone has, at one point in their lives. Things might have been good or bad, situations easy or difficult, relationships complicated or… well very very complicated, but you do get to a point in your life where you ask yourself, what next?

You see dreams. You work hard to fulfil them. And then you ask yourself what next? And you see more dreams. It’s a vicious circle. It goes on. It’s called life.

I bet some of you remember me from my old writings. I used to be in the darkest shit-hole ever and I used to rant here about it. When I read it now, I cry for my past self. I got married. I moved to this big world that I had never imagined before. And I stopped writing. But things have changed. Things are meant to change right. You can’t just stay at one place forever and ever now, can you? So I got divorced, some year and a half ago. My passport and travel documents were stolen from my bag so that I can’t go back.

And then I was at my parents house. Sitting on that brown sofa where I spent, I can’t even remember how many days just lying down watching days becoming nights and nights rolling into days. I woke up shaking everyday, and then I remembered my world is shaking. My soul, my being was shaking. I remember, remembering at that time that I have never been through such pain before. And I have never caused that much pain to my loved ones before. I came back for ten days and was left to rot there forever. I still hear remnants of my mom’s shrieks in the middle of the night and my dad’s tears still seep into my heart drop by drop.

But you never took me to be like the ones who give up easy, did you? I didn’t. I had to do something to get up again. My life was revolving around like a movie in my eyes. Not the life that I spent in the past, but the life I would have to spend in the future as a young divorced girl in my parents house. It was now or never. I somehow managed to get new passport and travel documents, spent all my savings to get back here in this foreign country. Had an interview on a call with a company and took tests on a borrowed computer. Sent out hundreds of job applications on my mobile because I didn’t have access to a laptop. But I got out in the end.

I lived in shitty student accommodations till I could afford a nice flat to rent. The day I moved into my new, my own home was the best day of my life. I felt proud of myself. The day my company offered me a sponsorship to work for them, I felt proud of myself. The day I setup my own home office with a beautiful big screen, I felt proud of myself. The day I started spending money not on myself, but on my family, I felt proud of myself.

Right now, sitting in my warm house in a corner with a beautiful pink rose vase standing just beside me on the window sill, I can feel tears welling up in my eyes. But this story is not about tears for every story is not meant to be sad. There is much more to my story than I have poured out here this time.

But some things are better left unsaid…