...is for Justice.
I know it's not healthy to allow myself to be consumed by a feeling of injustice, but I can't help it. I was wronged by D, profoundly wronged, and yet it is I that has paid the biggest price. Justice has not been done and the thought of obtaining justice is one of the (many) things that haunt me.
I don't know what kind of justice I expect - that D accept and admit that he did me wrong would be good, but I may be crazy but I'm not delusional, I know that is never going to happen. So what kind of justice can I possibly be hoping for?
I really don't know, but I dream of an abstract form of justice, and when I wake and come back to my often rather sordid reality, I realise once again that justice has not been done.
Maybe I'm waiting for the world at large to tell me they understand what I've been through, that they sympathise or even empathise with me, that it really all has been terribly unfair. But that's unrealistic because the wronging took place 4 years ago now, and everyone but me has moved on.
But that doesn't stop me yearning for justice all the same.