Alone But Not Silent

I’ve been teaching philosophy at the university for over three decades now, and while I pride myself on my intellect and dedication to my craft, there’s a loneliness that creeps into my life that no amount of scholarly accolades can quell. It's a feeling I try to ignore as much as possible during lectures or seminars where students look up to me with admiration, but it rears its head most nights when the house is quiet and my only company is my thoughts. Tonight was particularly rough. There’s an apartment on the other side of town that I visit occasionally for something... more tangible. A place where I don’t have to pretend or think about tomorrow, just live in the moment with someone who understands that we both know this isn't love but it's real connection. The woman there is a decade younger than me, and when I entered her apartment tonight, she knew exactly what I needed without words. She was naked as soon as I closed the door behind me, leading me to a small bed in the back room where we undressed each other quickly, eagerly. Her hands were gentle but firm on my body, mapping every contour with intention. Once skin met skin, she guided me onto her, straddling me with ease. Our bodies moved together seamlessly, hips and thighs sliding against one another rhythmically until our breaths mingled in the heat of it all and we reached that familiar peak together.