Small towns are brutal when you're trying to keep something private. Waterford might not be Dublin, but it's big enough that you can't know everyone yet small enough that everyone knows something about you. I've been careful. So careful.
My wife and I haven't shared a real moment of intimacy in years. Not just sex. Intimacy. Connection. She's checked out, I'm going crazy, and the kids are grown. What am I supposed to do? Stay miserable? Drag us both through marriage counseling when she's clearly not interested?
The escorts have been my lifeline. Not just for physical release. For feeling... seen. Wanted. Like a man who still has some spark left in him. I choose carefully. Always clean, always professional. Never anything risky that could blow back on my reputation.
Sometimes I wonder if I'm just fooling myself. Am I really solving anything or just creating more complicated problems? But then I meet someone who makes me feel alive again, and those doubts fade away. At least for a little while.
This isn't something I'll ever tell my family. Some secrets are better kept close. Some needs are private. And in Waterford, privacy is worth its weight in gold.