Not sure about this... but today I have an odd emotion.
It is not hate for the abuser.
It is not longing for what was lost.
It is not anger really... although I have felt my fair shair of that about the latest flashback.

It is like a putrid color which can't be described.
It is the unknown gunk in the bottom of an unwashed glass.

I work and try to stay focused.
I am not crying - even though a tough lump remains in the back of my throat.

This place is not good. Not bad.
Not sure what it is...