It’s the season to be Jolly…La la la la laaa-la la la laaa!

I’m sat here melancholy…Bla bla bla bla blaaa-bla bla bla blaaa!

It’s the aching December of 2010. Aching not because it’s chilly to the bones; but because this once vibrant heart is broken into a trillion pieces. My boyfriend of five years just showed me the boot. No one wants a boot for Christmas! Gifts filled stockings — yes, boot —no!

This is the annoying thing about festive period; the atmosphere is claustrophobically HAPPY for a teary soul. Everything and everyone is Christmassy and Santa-fied! Being alone makes you feel sad and dejected…all the emotions are ejected…the fake smile is perfected and any party invitation is rejected. Move over Santa, its time for Grinch. No reindeers, just trickling tears.

While I was sat purposelessly flicking through my Facebook contacts, I stopped at a profile photo that— in complete contrast to my mood— seemed comforting and inviting. It was my cousin from Boston, now a big shot realtor. Thats when a devilish thought struck me: my man may have flown to new pastures (New York to be precise); but nothing stops me from getting a whiff of his new surroundings! Too desperate? Perhaps! But whats the option? Sit here and commence the year wailing? I’d prefer flying solo to crying solo any day. Giving wings to this crazy thought; I spoke to my cousin who was graciously welcoming of my spontaneity “Come over Cuz, Let’s create some buzz!” Surprisingly, the flight tickets weren’t as damaging as I had expected them to be…may be December 23rd doesn’t see many last minute flyers. Most people are living their festive plans by then!

Amongst snow clad trees and white streets; I arrived in Boston on a bustling Christmas Eve. The sight was straight out of a winter postcard! Sure enough, my cousin came to pick me up in his posh ride and we zoomed straight to his friend’s dinner party. New faces, new conversations unlinked to my past or the state of this bruised heart. Yet, in this perfect set up of Xmas; my mind was shamelessly wandering off to the eXmess! A few perfect days in New England had me all charged up and I was ready to announce my arrival. I messaged Mr Ex, casually mentioning that I was holidaying in the States. It had been eight months since our ‘break’. Surely, thats space enough! Time to reclaim my importance in his new found life. To my surprise, he seemed well excited to hear from me! “You have to come to NY!”, he exclaimed! I couldn’t contain my excitement at the thought of being in his long arms again! “Of course, I’d love to see you! Hows the 30th for you?” I almost shrieked! We locked the date for our ‘date’… the rest was best left to fate.

4.5 hours of a bus ride later; I was heroically stood in one of the busiest cities in the world - NEW YORK. It felt like I was plugged into a Hollywood film scene, where the protagonist is static while the passersby are on the move in high definition slow-mo; except for one thing —there was no polite passing; instead it was harsh brushing of shoulders either side as busy folks and fast steps ruled the streets. With my bags in tow, I tried to hail the infamous yellow taxi. 15 minutes later, I was still stood waiving my arms in desperation. When I finally managed to get to the door of one; a fella just scooted in from the other side and hijacked my ride! No questions asked, no explanations given…just vamoosed with my hard hail work! Damn, NY is brutal! I give up! Time to make the ‘damsel in distress’ call.

It was strange seeing my (very) tall, (not) dark, (unconventionally) handsome man after so long! Between a side hug and an air kiss, we managed quite an awkward greet. He was buzzing with enthusiasm and offered to show me the city he fell in love with instantly. Ah! I lost out to the empire state building? We walked, clicked photos, ate at his fav joints and drank some. But we never spoke about what happened or will be. It seemed like that chapter was torn from his book and I didn’t know how to staple the pages back. We went back to his apartment which is where I was to stay the night, with rekindling hopes in tact. But with that night, my hopes ended too. I couldn’t get a wink all night while he slept like a baby. I realised there is more to this contrast. He seemed content, while I was restless. He seemed excited about life while I just wanted to be his wife. He wanted to fly, and all I wanted to do was fly to him. My bubble burst. And it burst bad. My heart ached more than ever as suddenly, I realised, THIS wasn’t meant to be. EVER. He wasn’t at fault. As he saw it, he was saving us from a painful future. But my stubborn self didn’t want to reason beyond the present.

In the morning, his chirpy self enquired about my New Year plans and suggested we witness the famed ball drop since thats the way to bring in the NY when in NY! I smiled and requested a drop to the coach station instead. Time was clearly up. Acceptance wasn’t going to come easy,  but the need of the hour was to getaway as far and as quick as possible.

He bought me Tacos for the journey, hugged me tight, our eyes welled up and I saw him wave good-bye from the corner of my eye. I didn’t have the strength to look back at life as I knew it. It’s easy to control your gaze, but no one teaches you how to control the flood gates of your saddened heart. I was inconsolable. The fellow passengers were either too understanding or too self-absorbed to have left me to my own devices. That was one of the hardest journeys I’d ever had to make. I messaged my cousin to tell him I was headed back and prefer to stay in while he brought in the new year in his elaborate style. To my relief, he was at the coach station with arms wide open and an empathetic smile. Thankfully, he wouldn’t have any of my pleading…the pity party was over even before it started. “We are going out and that’s that! Now, what makes a girl smile…shopping? Even better…shoe shopping! What size are you?” I chuckled with waterworks still on! (I do love my shoes!) Here lay the problem…time was 5:45 pm and being NY eve, stores were shutting early. He took me to a multi-brand store and while I was momentarily distracted by the shoe haven…he was on speed mode. The man had good taste and waltzed around the store picking a few funky styles. Within minutes, he handed the display loot to the sales rep : “All in size 8 pls!" The guy didn’t look very pleased— it did seem like a lot of work for closing time! I used to work at Nine West in my uni days; therefore, could completely sympathise with his perplexed look. But my cousin’s dedication made me smile. He deserved a good celebration night…not my gloomy face. “Leave the shoes bro…let’s go get ready…we have a party to attend!” I hugged him tight, silently thanking him of his reassuring presence. “You sure?” My changed outlook may have left him slightly confused. “I may not be vey sure of many things in my life; but I do know that I’m not ringing in the new year with a heavy heart! No binging on ice cream tubs for me tonight, We start with an espresso shot to awaken my senses and then blow this sadness away with shots of a different kind! Sounds like a plan?”

I hid my woes behind layers of make up, brightened my eyes with strokes full of mascara (added incentive to keep tears at bay) and put on my brightest lip colour. Clad in a classy Navy blue French Connection Dress and not so classy black winter boots; I glanced at my own reflection in the full length mirror before heading out. “Dear 2010, despite it all; you’ve been a remarkable year of self-exploration! In the past months, I learned how to swim, went sky diving, enrolled in a fashion course in Paris, went backpacking across Europe and did something I said I’d never do — got a tattoo — a huge one at that! Dear 2011, I don’t have goals, resolutions or detailed plans yet, but something tells me you shall bring the best year of my life!”

Not only did we greet the night in style; we went to Cancun, Mexico to start the year on a positive note. Travel is indeed the best bandaid! Meeting new people is therapeutic too. A few months after, I hesitantly jumped into the dating game again. After a few hit and miss affairs; I was finally excited about one man —Tom Cruise! Haha! I mean just after an interview with Tom Cruise. We spoke for hours and I knew then, that the coming year would finally be HAPPY…that the sob story was going to be a thing of the past. Because, one thing is for certain… woes don’t last.

Eight years have gone by. I’ll be seeing my cousin again this weekend. This time, I’d be picking him up from the airport instead…with my jovial husband and our naughty 2 year old. Miraculously, life ensured that this time around there is no room for tears…only chilled beers and lotsa Cheers!

So, for all the broken hearts reading this…don’t be afraid to believe in clichés. They bring hope. Turning events around may take way longer than we’d expect; the unexpected may take charge but good things will eventually happen. Smiles shall rule. You know why? Because life hasn’t a choice but to be Supa! ;)