Half a glass is half a glass

A while back, at the end of a long (hot, horny, objectifying) night that should be the subject of its own post, I was resting in Master's bedroom with a woman who once belonged to him. We had both been wearing collars that night, and as I watched her remove hers in preparation to leave, she smiled and said "Unlike you, I can take this off." I just smiled back, thinking, yes, but who is really better off here? As if she'd read my mind, she sighed and added "Trust me, you don't want to reach the point where you want to."

Suddenly I felt sorry for her. I know almost nothing about her relationship with Master and whether it was anything like mine. But at that moment I briefly imagined how awful it would be if all my devotion, submission, love, and desire to please him, was one day lost. Horrible - even worse than losing him.

Now here's a question worth asking: why do I persist in imagining the worst potential outcomes? I know the answer, but I'm not going into self-indulgent psychoanalysis explaining it: I'm just shit-scared, so I don't trust any situation that involves an emotional risk. It seems safer to expect I'm doomed from the beginning.

What if I imagined good things for a change? I wonder how it would feel... And could I really let myself, or would I chicken out?