One of my assailants died several years ago. At first, I didn't even register it. In therapy I realized that it made me happy. I was ashamed that I could feel this way. Another tried to relate by reminding me they could never hurt another person again and that was why I was happy. While they had a good point, I felt it was more selfish than that. After therapy it became another part of me that I learned to live with. That part of me that is happy they're gone from my world. Sometimes it makes me sad because, I feel I lost something. I still love life and will nurture for that brings me great joy. But, that change is still there. Perhaps, in some way it made me stronger. Thanks for letting me share.