{"id":934,"date":"2018-02-05T18:01:23","date_gmt":"2018-02-05T18:01:23","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/jonathanharker.co.uk\/theghostlyworld\/?p=934"},"modified":"2022-10-26T11:59:44","modified_gmt":"2022-10-26T11:59:44","slug":"lake-of-tears-part-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/jonathanharker.co.uk\/theghostlyworld\/lake-of-tears-part-2\/","title":{"rendered":"Lake of Tears part 2"},"content":{"rendered":"

by Joe Stanley<\/span><\/p>\n

2<\/span><\/p>\n

IT WAS NOT EXCEEDINGLY difficult to do as she asked. The worst of it was tolerating her asinine friends. I was needed only for <\/span>public events and left to my own most of the time. I spent that time bettering myself as much as possible. I read, learned <\/span>to appreciate music and art, studied chess… But the long, lonely hours took their toll, and I craved the only comfort\u00a0 I <\/span>could never have, the warmth of another loving heart.<\/span><\/p>\n

The smirks and snickers that attended the whispers surrounding me were not as deeply wounding as one might imagine.<\/span><\/p>\n

Never being taken seriously is only an insult when you respect the people looking down at you. But beyond these <\/span>soulless ones, there were others who judged me not so harshly. In the various classes I took in my spare time, I almost <\/span>even made friends.<\/span><\/p>\n

I think people liked me, even though they knew something was off. I got no small pleasure out of seeing a face or two <\/span>light up when I came into a room. I suppose some thought me to be interesting, but what really seemed to connect with <\/span>them was that I cared. When you view life from a position of pain, you either numb yourself to it or you appreciate what <\/span>it is and how it affects people.<\/span><\/p>\n

When I first met Emily, I knew immediately that she was, like myself, a solitary, broken heart. She sat alone, keeping to <\/span>herself. She was exceedingly difficult to approach, but I knew that she wanted someone to reach out and this kept me <\/span>persistent. When she finally let her guard down and opened up for me, I knew I understood nothing about suffering.<\/span><\/p>\n

I resolved to make her happy, if I could, to show her that she did not need to face life by herself. She needed me and I <\/span>needed her. We more than complimented each other, we completed each other. Our connection deepened with every <\/span>moment we spent together, our hearts became hopelessly and forever entangled.<\/span><\/p>\n

We both knew where we were headed. We pretended things weren’t so serious, that we were just good friends. But after <\/span>sharing a silly laugh, as we gazed into each others eyes, our passions exploded. Our lips met, burning with passion’s fire, <\/span>our trembling hands grasped at the treasure we had so long done without, our breaths were the screaming thunder of a <\/span>tempest, and our hearts pounded for the very first time in our lives with the rhythm of love.<\/span><\/p>\n

We held each other in silence, smiling in the dark, saying nothing and needing no more.<\/span>
\nWe knew the flaws, the secrets, the hurts, the wordless dreams we shared and that was enough.<\/span><\/p>\n

I could barely bring myself to part with her, but I knew we belonged to and with each other.<\/span><\/p>\n

Returning home was a rude and cold awakening. Marion could sense that I was happy and she tried to punish me for it.<\/span><\/p>\n

I had other plans.<\/span><\/p>\n

click here to continue<\/span><\/em><\/a><\/p>\n

\"The<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

by Joe Stanley 2 IT WAS NOT EXCEEDINGLY difficult to do as she asked. The worst of it was tolerating her asinine friends. I was needed only for public events and left to my own most of the time. I spent that time bettering myself as much as possible. I read, learned to appreciate music […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1,113],"tags":[4,8],"class_list":["post-934","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-flash-fiction","category-joe-stanley","tag-flash-fiction","tag-joe-stanley"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/jonathanharker.co.uk\/theghostlyworld\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/934","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/jonathanharker.co.uk\/theghostlyworld\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/jonathanharker.co.uk\/theghostlyworld\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jonathanharker.co.uk\/theghostlyworld\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jonathanharker.co.uk\/theghostlyworld\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=934"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/jonathanharker.co.uk\/theghostlyworld\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/934\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2837,"href":"https:\/\/jonathanharker.co.uk\/theghostlyworld\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/934\/revisions\/2837"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/jonathanharker.co.uk\/theghostlyworld\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=934"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jonathanharker.co.uk\/theghostlyworld\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=934"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jonathanharker.co.uk\/theghostlyworld\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=934"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}