The Loneliness of the Long Distance Spinster...

What a week. Insular doesn't even begin to cover it. Stuck in the suburbs with no car. Now that is cruel and unusual punishment. My car is in the shop again. I feel like I have a fever, but the air conditioning is on. It's the feeling of being trapped. It makes me sweat, and I can't sleep well.

In Monday's mail I got a package from my ex-boyfriend. It contained my locking black leather collar with the tiny black padlock and key. The fuschia heart was still attached, with the words etched into the metal: Property of "blank" (his name). I gave it to him for his birthday, the present of myself. I take collaring as seriously as offering someone a ring signifying comittment. To us it meant that he was my master, my 'daddy', my lover, my playmate, my best friend, and that I was just as many things to him, in mirror image. I asked for it back, hoping it would break some invisible link between us. But "Closure" is a joke. The heart is the true slave.

Today I recieved an email from him telling me that he went to his first therapy session, and that it went well. That's good. I hope he gets help. Even though it's too late for us now, and might always be too late, even in the future.

Meanwhile, I am spinning my wheels, and my web, but getting nowhere very slowly.