A Secret Playground

I remember when I first started playing at being a little under my professor's watchful eye. It was a secret we kept hidden in the back corners of our university, away from prying eyes and curious minds. The first time we met like this, he looked at me with a mix of curiosity and concern, his stern gaze softening as I explained how I felt trapped in my adult body but yearned to be that carefree child again. He understood more than I thought possible. We agreed on the rules, respect, trust, and most importantly, safety. The thrill was exhilarating; he would act out scenes from my childhood, teaching me lessons with a firm yet gentle hand. But there were moments when it felt hollow, like a game played by adults who could never truly be children again. And that's what made it sad, the weight of reality pressing down on our playful fantasies.