Joseph and I have never slept together. It's true that we've slept in the same bed (57 times now to be precise), but we haven't actually made love. We did try on our wedding night, but his knees gave way and my back was playing up, so we just lay there in pain, kissing each other and talking of times past. We haven't actually tried again since then because Joseph thinks I'm not ready and he says he doesn't want to rush me. I think it's because after the wedding reception, we went up to our suite and I uncontrollably screamed when he came out of the shower naked and begged him to put some pants on. He just startled me, that's all. I didn't mean to scream.

We've been trying out this new program that he thought up where he slowly moves his hands all over my body and I respond by telling him how uncomfortable I feel on a scale of one to twenty. It's a clever idea, but I don't feel that it's working properly because most of my discomfort actually comes from my stressing over using the program. It immediately takes my score up to seven. The worst part about it is that he jots down each night's results in his notebook and says to me either, "Well, I see we're improving," or, "Oh, well, we'll try again tomorrow."

Sometimes I think I should just tear up that book and jump on him. I can only imagine the look on his face if he saw me flying towards him.

I can't believe we've been married for two months and haven't even gotten to what Mia calls "Third base". I mean, Rupert and I went all the way on our wedding night, despite the fact that we hardly knew each other. But I was a lot younger then.

Joseph was so happy when I proposed to him as I was of course. And that first kiss was simply wonderful. We would have enjoyed it to the full extent if all of those people weren't watching. I could see that Joseph was embarrassed and didn't quite know what to do after we broke away. He just kept looking at the back wall.

That turned out to be one of the most painful, but happy days of my life and by painful I mean the back pain and the fact that I thought I was going to see my granddaughter make the same mistake as me. Thankfully, she didn't and now she's going to walk down the aisle with the man she loves and she's going to live happily ever after and have plenty of children (I hope). I, on the other hand am not going to see her get married. I wish more than anything that I could, but it's just not possible.

Did I neglect to mention that Joseph and I now live alone in a large cottage just outside of town? It was originally meant for Rupert and I for when we retired, but since he left and I married Joseph, it's ours. I couldn't be happier. There are no cameras and no guards, only us and our four acres of green grass. We don't even have maids because I thought it was high time I learned to fend for myself. I guess we're going to have to hire one now. There goes my privacy.

The only other living things you'll find on our land are our two horses (Tina and Bernie) and also my wonderful dog, Maurice. It's very peaceful and very quiet here. I had such an incredibly wonderful time adjusting to the whole privacy thing that when I went back to the palace for the first time to visit Mia, I felt as if I was alone and did things that I wouldn't want anyone to see, for example; I stood in the hallway scratching my behind. One of the guards caught me, but I told him that I thought I'd been bitten by a bee and that silenced him. I walked away all red-faced and I think the guard did, too. Those were the days, full of life, full of colours, but now, my life is full of boredom because I can't do many of the things I love to do the most; I can't eat proper meals yet without making a mess, I can't go walking by myself, I can't ride my horse until I learn to fully stabilize myself, (in other words I'm a little off balance) and the number one thing I love to do but can't do on account of my blindness (apart from admiring my husband), is read. Reading has been such an important part of my life and I can't do it anymore.

Today, Joseph came home with a cane, a talking watch and all of my favourite books on tape, except for my absolute favourite (Pride and Prejudice). I was fairly angry about him bringing in all these at-home-blind-person activities, because I didn't want to be reminded that I'm blind. I know he meant well, but it was too soon. Perhaps my anger was a sign that I totally skipped the depression and moved right on. I hope so, but the chances of skipping depression are slim to nil.

I did listen to my talking books for a while, but it just wasn't the same. I like to look at the pictures, not imagine them.

Oh well, I can hear Joseph coming for our nightly program, so I'll finish up with this. May as well start preparing now, "Seven, twelve, eight, twelve, thirteen, nine."

It's going to be another long night…