Sometimes it feels as if things have gone right back to the start.
Even if we just go back to the start of lockdown and when I started writing, I can barely recognise myself. That was only in June this year. I can barely recognise my life, my whole world any more.
It is not that I have become a stranger to myself. It is that person in the past has become a stranger to me.
When I think of how I struggled and how sore everything was for so long, and how unpredictable it all was and how I never thought I would ever be able to lock properly at all (or, at least, what I considered to be properly for me, in my particular circumstance), I can barely believe where I am now.
And just when things seemed to be going to swimmingly well, I have a day like today.
With no explanation or reason, things decided to be tight and sore pretty much all morning and most of the afternoon. I was utterly frustrated and depressed.
How could this be so? How can today have felt so much like those early days after all the days and weeks of happy comfort? Why should the damned thing be so inexplicable?
All it takes is a wrong twist in a wrong place at the wrong time. Make no mistake, this is a very delicate part of the anatomy and yet, for some reason, one with apparently infinite flexibility.
Things have settled down now, of course, and are back to normal. The new normal, that is.
But particularly this morning, it set me off on a “downer” and nothing seemed like it was ever going to be right again.
Sometimes one gets a feeling that one is saying goodbye to a part of one’s life, never to see it again. That period of time may have been short or it may have been quite lengthy, but there is always that feeling, looking back, that things have changed so much that the old world is now closed.
That, I guess, is the nature of time.
But there is a “sting” in the tail here. Because even though one may be sorrowful at the loss of something, even if only recently gained, there is the sure knowledge that there is a reason for everything and the reason why the old world is no longer accessible is because one now inhabits a bright and shining new one.
And so as I sit here, writing, safely locked in chastity, I take nothing for granted. I am locked, yes. Am I locked for Mistress? I am not entirely sure about that. Am I locked for me? I guess I probably am. But I hope it is pleasing to Mistress.
And yet I know the world could be a completely different place tomorrow. She may change her mind. I may become displeasing to her. The world may simply change.
And so I do not take chastity, or anything else, for granted. I can only be grateful for the moment I find myself in and for each and every moment. And I can only be supremely grateful to Mistress for so many things I cannot even begin to mention them all.
I can mention one, though. Through everything, she has taught me to never lose hope.
And I never will.