It has been Monday, and then Tuesday, and then Wednesday again...
The world hasn't ended, and I still find myself placidly sipping my coffee while fighting with my busy mind, at the end of another day. The human quality of - just - moving forward by inertia, no matter what. You will find that life doesn't care much.
My Master has gone, but the world hasn't ended. I feel a bit queasy when, every now and again, the thought of him surprises me and still hits me with that gut-wrenching feeling. Quite the physical manifestation, for what is supposed to be emotional pain.
I manage to do okay, most of the times. I function, do my things, read, educate myself. I cultivate that sub's vulnerable seed which has been left unsheltered and uncared for.. I do it as the ultimate act of self-care.
It doesn't feel the same, but I try to see it as an interlude, hopefully leading to receiving the gift of all that grace, once again.