Golden Horizon: Sequel to “Canadian Sunsets”

By Patricia Schmidt Jameson

Tammi Summers was raised by her aunt, Emma Reynolds, and grew up never knowing love. At the age of eighteen, Emma threw her out of the house. Years later, Tammi received a letter: I know how you must feel about coming to see me right now, but please consider my request, and come as soon as possible. There are some things I need to tell you while I still have time left . . . the bottom line is, time is short.

That letter changed the course of Tammis life. She wanted to trash it without reading it, but persuaded by her pastor husband, Jeff, she not only read it, but she also did as the writer requested. Little did she know that when she made the trip to Cochrane, Ontario, her life would never be the same.

Secrets to her past, secrets of lies, deception, and cruelty beyond imagination are revealed to her. In all of it, Tammis faith never wavers. She is used by God to lead several people to Christ, including her aunt, who dreams of a wheat field. Tammi is led into the path of forgiveness and love, and she discovers a new and wonderful future for her and her husband.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Apr 13, 2017
• ISBN: 9781543413298

Patricia Schmidt Jameson

Patricia Schmidt Jameson was born and raised in Rochester, NY. She was married to John Schmidt for thirty-seven years until he went home to be with the Lord in 1991. The couple have five children and seven grandchildren, plus one great granddaughter. Pat taught Sunday school for several years at the Christian & Missionary Alliance Church, and also worked for eighteen years as bookkeeper for 3WG radio station. She lives with her son, John, in Henrietta, NY, a suburb of Rochester.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Emma sat beside the doctor’s desk with her hands in her lap. Her caregiver sat on the opposite side of the desk. This was only one of several such visits she had made to his office. She knew his office by heart. There were eight certification frames on the wall, one large clock, and six pictures of waterfalls.

The clock looked like one she remembered from her school days. It was large enough to see twenty feet away. She supposed that was so his nearsighted patients wouldn’t have any trouble telling when their time was up.

Her palms were sweaty. The handkerchief she had been holding was limp with moisture. She crossed and recrossed her legs, at the ankle of course, as any lady would do.

The chair she sat in matched his chair behind his desk, except his tilted back and looked a lot more comfortable. She sighed. Let’s just get this over with, she muttered.

Just hang in there, Emma, Jeannie, her caregiver, whispered.

She had already come to the conclusion that the news wouldn’t be good, so why keep her waiting to hear it?

Finally, the door opened. Dr. Sweet walked in, closing the door behind him. He was not a tall man, perhaps five feet, eight inches. His rounded middle betrayed him. He was adamant about his patients watching their diet, yet if looks were any evidence, he didn’t follow his own advice. His hair tended to fall on either side of his bald middle, and his frameless glasses gave him the look of a stern father figure. Emma knew that his looks were deceiving; that in fact, he lived up to his name, sweet. He was the kindest doctor she had been to in months, and she had been to several. Today, however, he wore a grim look as he settled himself in his chair.

Well now, Emma. Let’s see what the test results say, he said as if he didn’t already know.

Just tell me the bottom line. Just let me get on with whatever life I have left. Don’t keep me here all day, she snapped.

He looked up from the charts in front of him. Well, it is as we expected. The cancer has metastasized to the lungs.

Metastasized?

Yes. Some of the cancer cells have broken away from the breast and have been carried by the blood to the lungs.

So now I have lung cancer? she asked.

No. Actually, you have breast cancer in your lungs.

She laughed. Makes me sound like a freak.

I’m glad that you can take this so easily, but be assured, Emma, this is not a laughing matter.

Emma settled back in her chair. Look, Doctor, I already knew it was bad. It was your job to find out just how bad. You did that. Now that we know it has spread, what can be done about it? I’m assuming that nothing can be done, or you wouldn’t be looking so glum. So let’s cut to the chase, and tell me what should I expect, and how long do you think I have left?

New drugs are being developed every day for this type of cancer. I can’t say there is no hope. I just can’t say how much hope at this point.

I’m not going for any more chemotherapy, if that’s what you’re hinting at. The side effects of those treatments were worse than the double mastectomy. There’s nothing worse in my book than being nauseous all day for weeks on end. Dying would be easier than having to go through that again. Radiation isn’t much better. If I’m going to die, then let me do it quietly without fuss or bother. Why prolong it?

Are you sure? Is this really what you want? he asked kindly.

Yes, I’m sure. Just tell me what to expect and how long I have.

One thing I’m fairly certain is that you can expect more pain and tiredness. As for how long, who’s to say? Maybe three months, maybe six. As the pain intensifies, we can give you something to make you more comfortable. That’s about it. If you’re sure that’s the route you want to take. I’ll be right here, a phone call away. I’ll do whatever I can to make this easier for you. I might suggest that you go home and get your life in order, and then enjoy the days that are left, he said sadly.

Thank you, Doctor, she said as Jeannie helped her rise from her chair and gather her purse from the floor beside her feet.

Dr. Sweet rose also and followed them out the door. Don’t forget. Call me if there’s anything you need, any question you may have. He smiled. And good luck. He offered her his hand.

Jeannie stopped at the nurse’s desk and requested that someone call a cab for them. As they sat in the waiting room, Emma removed a sheet of paper from her purse and a pen. It was the bucket list she had started earlier. The first item on it said, Contact Tammi. The problem was, she wasn’t sure how to go about doing that. She knew where the woman lived, but what to say to her was the problem. How should she tell her what she had been hiding all these years? Where does one start when a whole life has been lived as a lie, two lives actually?

She was growing tired physically and mentally. When the cab pulled up, she sighed with relief.

It was only a ten-minute ride to her home, and it was with immense satisfaction she saw the cornflower blue–colored house with the white trim come into view as the cab turned the corner onto the small dead-end street. There were ten houses in all, five on each side. The white picket fence stood out from the others. The flowers around the walk to the porch greeted her in an array of color. Usually they cheered her, but today she had too much on her mind to pay them any heed.

Jeannie paid the driver and helped her onto the porch. Audrey, next door, waved at them as Jeannie unlocked the door. Audrey was a friendly woman who would have liked to be more of a friend to Emma if she were allowed. It wasn’t that Emma didn’t appreciate caring neighbors, but she never had a close friend, and she was uncomfortable having more than a nodding acquaintance with anyone. Jeannie, actually, was the first person she had ever gotten close to. She would never have dreamed of having someone come live in her home, but it was either that or go to an assisted-living home, and then to a nursing home. She was glad she made the decision, with Dr. Sweet’s help, to hire Jeannie. She was a sweet woman, quiet, didn’t ask too many questions. She was a good listener and always seemed to know exactly what needed to be done.

Jeannie laid the keys on the table beside the door and helped Emma climb the stairs to her room. Sitting on the side of the bed, she slipped her shoes off and stretched out. Jeannie pulled the blanket up over her.

I’ve got to write to Tammi, Jeannie. It’s a task that should have been done a long time ago.

Yes, I think that’s a good idea. What exactly are you going to say to her?

She has to know the truth.

Are you going to tell her the truth in a letter?

I don’t know how else to do it.

I would think it’s something that should be done face-to-face, her caregiver replied thoughtfully.

How will I ever get her here? What reason could I possibly give that would persuade her to come?

Why don’t you just tell her what the doctor told you, and that you’d like to straighten some things out with her before the end?

Hmm. I wonder how she’d respond. I suppose you are right. I couldn’t possibly tell her all that I have to say in a letter. Chances are, she’d toss it before she ever read it. Yes, I’ll just tell her what Dr. Sweet said and ask her to come. Thank you, Jeannie, she said. I think I’ll write it later this afternoon.

She stretched out. Oh, that felt so good. She closed her eyes.

CHAPTER 2

The breeze was blowing her blonde hair. Wisps of it were fluttering across her face. She pushed it away as she looked up at the sun. It was bright. It was warm. She looked around. No one was in sight, only rows upon rows of wheat. It seemed she was standing in a wheat field. The blue sky above her and the white clouds were a beautiful contrast to the yellow surrounding her. She felt peaceful.

Lifting her arms up and out as if to gather the warmth and love she felt and bring it closer to her, Emma threw her head back and laughed. This was glorious. There was no sense of time as she stood there inhaling the peace and joy around her. Slowly, she sank to her knees with her arms still raised. At some point, she stretched out between the rows and closed her eyes. And that’s when she saw him.

He was walking toward her at a leisurely pace, but his eyes never strayed from hers. His white robe fluttered around his ankles. Her heart began to pound. There was no question that he was headed for her, but what did he want? She tried to open her eyes, but they were glued shut. How, if her eyes were closed, did she see him?

Soon he was standing in front of her with his hand out toward her, as if to help her to her feet. Without giving it any thought, she raised her arm toward him and grasped his outstretched hand.

Gently he lifted her up. His eyes were the clearest blue she had ever seen. Looking into them was like looking into a crystal clear pool of water. He was smiling. So there you are! The Stranger exclaimed. I’ve been looking for you.

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. What could she say anyway? Where had she been? Why had he been looking for her?

Come now. There’s no need to be frightened, he said as he took her hand and started walking through the rows of wheat.

I’m not frightened, she managed to speak. Where are we going?

His laugh was pleasant. To a place you’ve never been, to a glorious place. My words can’t describe it. You have to see it for yourself.

How do you know me? she whispered, more to herself than to The Stranger walking beside her.

I knew you before you were born. Didn’t you know that?

Obviously she didn’t. Before I was born? How could you know me before I was born?

Why not? he asked simply.

Before I was born, I didn’t exist.

You’ve always existed. Before the foundation of the world, you existed in the Father’s heart and mind. There never was a time when you did not exist.

She pondered his reply. If I always existed, then where was I before I was born?

You tell me. Don’t you remember?

Obviously, I don’t. If I remembered, this conversation would be moot.

He laughed with pure joy. You are right.

They continued to walk through the rows of wheat, always through the rows of wheat. They never wandered from the field.

If we’re going someplace, why aren’t we taking the road?

We are taking the road. The road is in the wheat field, he replied.

But wouldn’t we get there faster if we took the paved road instead of walking in this bumpy field?

"Yes, I suppose that is the way it would seem to you. That’s the way it seems to most people. The smooth, paved path, you all think that would be the fastest route, but you are wrong.

"If you walked long enough on the smooth, paved road, soon your leg muscles would atrophy. Surely you’ve heard the saying, ‘Use it or lose it.’ That’s what would happen to your legs. How could you live out your life and accomplish your purpose if your muscles atrophy?

We have to walk the path in the field.

Are we almost there? My legs are getting tired, Emma said as she longingly eyed the paved road not far from them.

We’ll be there when we get there. As long as you keep your eyes on the paved road, this path will seem longer and harder to walk. If you turn your eyes to the path you’re on, you’ll notice all sorts of wonderful things, and you’ll hardly realize you’re walking.

You are making absolutely no sense at all. None of this is.

What isn’t making any sense to you, Emma?

This was the first time he had used her name. It startled her.

I must be dreaming, she said.

How do you know you’re dreaming? Perhaps this is real, and what you think of as your life is only a dream.

I think I’d like to wake up now, she responded.

Are you sure? When you wake up, you’ll be in bed with your body riddled with cancer. Is that what you want to wake up to?

Well, at least I know how I got there and where I’m going.

Do you? Do you know where you’re going, Emma?

You mean after I die?

After your body lets go of the real you, do you know where you’d go?

She chewed her lip. I don’t want to think about it. I just want to go back to my life as I knew it.

Was it a good life? Did you feel love? he asked quietly.

Love? She tried to remember. What is love anyway?

Love? The Stranger answered. Why, it’s the most important thing since creation. In fact, love is what made creation.

You are talking nonsense. How can a feeling create anything? she asked, annoyed.

Ah, that’s where the problem lies. You think love is a feeling.

Well, isn’t it?

No wonder you got so messed up in your thinking. You’re looking for a feeling, and obviously feelings are fickle. It’s sort of like chasing your shadow, once you think you’ve caught it, it’s gone. Or your conception of love might be more like chasing butterflies. Each one is prettier than the last one, but each one slips through your fingers, leaving you empty-handed.

She couldn’t argue with that. All her life, love had slipped through her fingers. She was always chasing it, but never quite grasping it. But I do know what it feels like, she said thoughtfully.

Really? Tell me about it.

She sighed. Well, it makes your heart pound, your hands sweat, and it brings such joy to the pit of your stomach, you want to shout.

Sounds painful.

Yes, I suppose it is, but it’s a lovely pain, she responded.

A lovely pain? That’s an oxymoron, if I ever heard one.

Guess you have to experience it to understand what I’m saying, she replied.

Tell me about your experience with it. Was it a happy one? Did you thoroughly enjoy it? Are you feeling it right now?

She grew thoughtful. Was it a happy one? I guess that depends on your definition of happy.

Well, I would assume happy means full of joy and gladness. Is that how your love experience was, full of joy and gladness?

No, not really. In fact, it left me more sorrow than gladness.

Then why would you spend your life looking for it?

Because it’s supposed to be more than I experienced.

Do you know anyone who did experience it with joy and gladness?

She thought for a moment. No, not really, but everyone seemed to be full of joy and gladness thinking about it.

So you’re talking about an illusion, not an experience. Your illusion was full of joy and gladness, but you never found an experience that matched that, isn’t that right?

What was the original question? she asked, perplexed.

The question was, did you ever feel love?

And the answer to that would be no, I never did feel love.

That is truly sad.

Why is it sad? If I’ve never experienced it, and no one I know has either, then what could I possibly be missing?

"How about the joy and gladness we were talking about? You are missing that. It seems that since you never felt love, you’ve never known joy or gladness either. And that is what’s so sad.

You see, love knows you. Love made you. Don’t you think it’s a pity that you don’t know the One who made you?

Now you’re beginning to sound like a street-corner preacher.

Yes, I suppose I am. Do you know why people preach from the street corner?

I can’t imagine.

Because they have something so wonderful to tell to the rest of the world, they want to shout it everywhere they go.

It didn’t sound that wonderful to me.

What did you hear?

All about hellfire and brimstone. Why would anyone want to shout that to the rest of the world?

That’s only what you heard. You didn’t hear the whole message.

That was enough for me.

You didn’t hear them talk of the wonders of love. You didn’t hear them tell you of a place so beautiful that once you get there, you’ll never want to leave, a place so filled with joy and gladness that it fills the very air around you.

No, you’re right about that. I never heard anyone talk about a place like that. In fact, I don’t believe there is such a place.

Oh, but you’re wrong. There is such a place, and that’s where we’re headed right now.

Emma stopped. He was right. She hadn’t realized that during this whole conversation, they had been walking toward a place. A glorious place, he had called it.

This place that you’re talking about, why have I never been there before?

Perhaps you weren’t ready before?

And I’m ready now?

By the time you get there, you will be ready, came his swift reply.

How long before I get there?

He quoted her doctor’s words: Three months, six months, who’s to say?

This is crazy. I’m leaving now! she exclaimed. With that, she let go of his hand, which she hadn’t realized she had been holding.

Just remember this, Emma. Do what you must do, but make certain you find the love you never knew, he said as he began to fade from her sight.

CHAPTER 3

Emma lay on her bed, going over her conversation with The Stranger. Love? What a strange topic. She knew she didn’t know anything about love. She didn’t need The Stranger to remind her. Still, he had, sort of, put it all together for her. Love had failed her. But perhaps it was she who had failed love.

She thought she knew love. She had given her whole self to the one man who had paid attention to her. Perhaps it wasn’t love after all. Perhaps it was just taking the crumbs that had been offered her. She didn’t know. All she did know was that she thought it was love.

Gladness? Joy? No, he hadn’t given her any of that, at least not intentionally. The joy and gladness she felt was only in her imagination. He was her prince. He had come to rescue her. He brought everything that she had dreamed of, except reality.

She thought of the times in her father’s barn. She had felt safe and secure, loved even. She felt that no one could harm her when she was in Vernon’s arms. His promises were vague, but she filled in the blanks. They would soon announce their love to the world. They would have a beautiful wedding and many beautiful children. She would be queen of her domain, and her sister, Patty, would never be able to hurt her again.

That’s the way it was supposed to be.

Was there a time when she knew joy? She couldn’t remember. It seemed that every time she thought it was within her reach, her sister, Patty, grabbed it. Joy was like a bubble floating in front of her. Just as she was about to grasp it, Patty would pop it. There were some times when it seemed like she had it in her grasp, but it always blew away.

Perhaps if she had been prettier or smarter, she could have held on to it, but Patty, with her red curly hair, was the pretty one, the smart one. Things just seemed to come to Patty without any effort. Emma supposed it was partly her fault because she always gave in to her. It was easier than arguing all the time. She actually had become quite used to letting Patty have her way, but that changed when she fell in love, or what she thought was love. When push came to shove, she didn’t measure up to Patty, and love flew out the window.

Her thoughts strayed to the one person in the world who meant anything to her—Vernon Peck. Vernon had a crush on Patty, but Patty’s heart secretly belonged to another. When she had turned down all of Vernon’s advances, he turned to Emma for comfort.

She could still see him in her mind, after all these years, not the most handsome of those who pined for Patty, but he had something. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was, but it made her heart pound and her palms grow sweaty just being around him. Strange that Patty never felt that way around him, but then Patty probably felt that way about Richard. Only Patty wasn’t about to let her feelings be known. She could wait a while longer before revealing her heart to Richard. There was no chance that she’d lose him by waiting. In the meantime, she could bask in the attention the other suitors were lavishing on her.

Emma remembered the day Vernon first discovered her. It was as vivid in her mind as if it were yesterday. He had come to see Patty, but Patty was entertaining someone else. Emma answered the door and saw him standing there wearing a maroon corduroy sports jacket over a gray turtleneck shirt and gray slacks. His wavy brown hair was parted on the left side. He wore a grin that spread from one ear to the other.

Hi, Emma, is Patty home?

Well, actually, she is, Vernon, but she’s tied up at the moment. Richard is here, and it looks like things are getting serious between them.

She remembered how his face fell. He stood at the door idly kicking a leaf that the October wind had blown onto the wide porch. I don’t see his dad’s car. What did he do? Walk?

Yes, I believe he did. I wasn’t really paying that much attention.

Hmm. His eyes searched hers. Perhaps he saw the hope she had been harboring, or perhaps he was looking for something to do now that Patty wasn’t available. I never realized what pretty eyes you have, Emma. Has anyone ever told you that before?

Startled, she looked up at him and laughed. Perhaps there’s something wrong with your eyes, or maybe the light is bad out here.

No, there’s nothing wrong with my eyes. Honest, he said. I just had them checked! He laughed.

The wind had picked up rather rapidly as they stood talking. She had stepped out onto the porch rather than keep the door opened.

Let’s take a walk, he said with a grin. I don’t think we’ve ever had a real conversation. Come on. He took her arm and led her down the porch steps.

I don’t know, Vernon. The wind is really kicking up.

We won’t be gone long. I just want to talk to you.

Without going in for a jacket, she allowed him to lead the way around the side of the house toward the orchard. Her heart was pounding. All sorts of questions came to her mind. She couldn’t imagine why Vernon would want to take a walk with her. Yet he had asked her, and she couldn’t bring herself to say no, even though she had goose bumps from the cold.

They walked toward the orchard in silence. She wondered why he wanted to walk with her if he wasn’t going to talk to her. Finally, she broke the ice.

So, Vernon, what sort of plans do you have for the future? Are you going to run the paper mill for your dad, or do you plan on seeking your fortune in the city?

The paper mill had become quite prosperous in the past two decades since the Depression. His father had bought out the previous owners in the early years when it looked like the mill might go under. Through Mr. Peck’s hard work and foresight, the mill had kept going and made a tidy profit while doing so. While times were hard for most of the families around them, the mill continued to prosper. Mr. Peck had big hopes for his son and the mill.

"My father and I have had some heated arguments about that. I want to go to France and study art. He says a man can’t make a living painting pictures. He gave me a choice: go to college and study engineering, or stay here and take over the mill. He says he’ll pay for my tuition if I choose engineering, but he’s not going to give me a dime if I choose to go to art school.

I don’t know why he’s being so obstinate. He could afford to send me to France and pay for art school. I know it’s not the money that bothers him. He just wants to control me.

Would you defy your father?

There’s the rub. I know I can’t make it on my own without his help, and he is adamant about not giving me that help. Perhaps it’s just a dream. After all is said and done, I’ll probably stay right here and run the mill. He sighed. I know he’s right. I need to be able to support a wife."

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. If only he were speaking of her, but she knew where his heart really belonged. He was hoping Patty would see things his way and become his wife.

The wind began to blow harder; the leaves swirled around their feet, and her skirt flew up over her head. She was so embarrassed. A broad grin spread across his face as he put his arm around her. She shivered as the sky grew darker. Above the roar of the wind, she tried to tell him that they should run for cover. Perhaps going for a walk wasn’t such a good idea after all. He must have come up with the same thought because as the rains started coming down in sheets, he grabbed her hand and starting running toward her father’s barn. By then they were soaked through. Their clothing clung to their bodies as if painted on them.

He had no problem opening the barn door, but it took both of them to close it. He surveyed the inside of the barn. The stalls were filled with equipment and animals. He led her up the rickety steps to the hayloft. It wasn’t the most pleasant place to be. The hay was prickly and musty smelling, but she didn’t mind. Being there in the hayloft with Vernon was beyond anything she had ever imagined.

She was shaking with cold, and he put his arms around her to warm her up. Then she heard the barn door open. Her father came in to check on the cattle. She knew what would happen if they were caught. Vernon ducked down and drew her to himself. They didn’t move. When they finally heard the barn door close, she tried to get up, but Vernon held her fast. She tried to move away, but he held her tighter. It was difficult to breathe. Her heart was pumping rapidly under her blouse.

Don’t be in such a hurry to leave. It’s still blowing out there, and in case you haven’t noticed, we’re still wet. He eyed her blouse, now transparent from the rain. Let’s just stay here a while longer and try to dry off. Why don’t we get better acquainted? he asked as he pulled the elastic neckline of her blouse down off her shoulders.

She groaned.

She cringed thinking about it now. How could she have been so stupid?

An hour later, they stood up and climbed back down the ladder. She should have been so ashamed.

She shook her head as she thought about her actions. Oh, the folly of it all. I was such a fool. How could I have believed him when he told me I was beautiful? No one had ever said that before, and I knew it wasn’t true. Yet I believed him. Why? Because I wanted to, that’s why! She answered her own question.

His kisses were certainly persuasive enough. No one had ever kissed her before. She saw stars and heard firecrackers, just like she had always dreamed. Oh, he sweet-talked her all right. He said he was surprised more guys hadn’t discovered her hidden beauty. She knew now what he meant by hidden beauty, but back then she was so stupid!

I heard what I wanted to hear. He said he hoped we’d be seeing more of each other from then on, and I took it to mean that he’d start courting me. I couldn’t be more wrong!

Oh yes, he wanted to see her again—in the barn! If only she had used wisdom. Where was her common sense? Why couldn’t she see what he was doing? What was she thinking when he continued to call for Patty two and three times a week, and then threw stones at her window to meet him afterward? Why hadn’t Patty told him she wasn’t interested? It was just like her sister to be so selfish. If only she had been honest with him. Why hadn’t Emma seen right through him?

She remembered the day she confronted him about his dates with Patty. She saw his car pull up, and she rushed out to meet him before he had a chance to get out. She threatened to tell her parents what had been going on if he didn’t break it off with Patty and start courting her. He laughed and told her to get in the car.

He drove her to the park, down by the merry-go-round. The park was closed for the season, so there was no one around. He walked her to a bench and put his arm around her. Softly he spoke to her. Emma, you are the most beautiful woman in the world. I love being with you. I love the smell of your hair. I love the smell of your skin when it’s wet. I just feel good when I’m with you. When I am with you, I feel like a superhero. No one makes me feel like you do.

He asked her to be patient. He said their relationship would be a surprise to everyone and that he was waiting for the right moment to tell them. If he stopped seeing Patty abruptly, people would guess the surprise. He said that by dating Patty, he could still see Emma without anyone being the wiser.

Why did that make sense to her? How could she have been so stupid? How could she have thought so little of herself that she was willing to continue to meet him, willing to give of herself so freely with no commitment from him? How long could it have gone on? Would she have grown old and wrinkled, still meeting Vernon in the barn? Would Vernon have married someone else after Patty announced her engagement to Richard? Would she have been fool enough to continue meeting him even after he was married?

Was that her idea of love? It certainly didn’t bring her any joy or gladness. It brought sorrow, heartache, and disappointment. It turned their honey experience into sour milk!

She thought of the day Patty finally announced her engagement to Richard. She was so excited. Now surely, Vernon would come forward with an announcement of his own. Only he didn’t! When she approached him on the matter, her whole world exploded and crashed!

He was not about to marry her. He had no intention of marrying her. He was sorry that she had not realized that. She was like a comfortable shoe, a toy that brought hours of entertainment, but certainly not to be taken seriously; he was just having some fun.

Her heart hurt so much it became a physical pain. She pounded her pillow and screamed. Her tears came like the breaking of a dam. The sobs shook her whole body. Grief engulfed her.

How could he have done this to me? I feel so betrayed. He never loved me. No one ever loved me. How could I have been so stupid? Why did I think anyone would ever care about me?

Her sobs were uncontrollable. She had to gulp in air to breathe. This went on for over an hour. Finally, there were no more tears to cry and no more strength left in her.

Later, she got up and washed her face. Looking in the mirror, she saw red puffy eyes staring back at her.

It took all this time, but I’ve finally learned. My days of crying are