二十三度

Falling into a slumber late in the afternoon, I did not awaken until the night had fully descended. A desire to walk beneath the open sky surfaced within me. Unawares to my consciousness, the nocturnal air had grown refreshingly cool, far more revitalizing than the interior of a room tightly regulated by air conditioning. As I trudged the stretch from Gangnam Station to Sinnonhyeon Station, the digital billboards displayed the contemporary weather conditions: 23°C. Fine dust levels: Excellent. So it is 23 degrees right now. An exceptionally crisp, perfect temperature for a stroll. I found myself thinking, So this is precisely what 23 degrees feels like.

As I approached home after approximately an hour of walking, beholding the familiar nocturnal vistas brought forth the sudden memory of a woman I had encountered several years prior. I wondered exactly what temperature she had maintained when she was alongside me. It was unequivocally higher than 36°C, yet surely it had failed to reach 40°C. It distinctly felt far more scorching than that, leading my mind to wander into all manner of conjectures: Is it even biologically plausible for a human physique to sustain a temperature surpassing 40 degrees? To gauge the precise metric, one would have had to plunge a thermometer directly into her mouth at that very moment. For the temperature recognized by the flesh and the temperature perceived by the tongue are definitively disparate phenomena.

She constituted the very first older partner I had ever encountered in my existence. Cultivating an intimacy between us was remarkably effortless. It appeared that the vocabulary I employed and my distinct mode of navigating life resonated with her in an exceptionally profound manner. She held a deep admiration for individuals who, much like myself, maintained a disciplined routine of writing. Possessing an immense wealth of emotional sensibility, she was accustomed to purchasing anthologies of poetry to read, weeping over the stanzas, and occasionally composing verses of her own. She belonged to that species of individual who invested heavy thought into every single word uttered, even those spoken in mere jest. Though her years surpassed mine, her demeanor was entirely indistinguishable from that of a pure literary maiden.

Her approach was invariably characterized by a deliberate slowness. Commencing from the very tips of my toes, she would systematically elevate the temperature. The tops of my feet, my toes, my knees, my abdomen. Ascending in this gradual manner, she would leisurely bring my neck and my ears to a scorching heat. Once we had engaged in that rhythm for a protracted duration, I naturally followed her tempo. Because both she and I harbored a mutual preference for kissing the ears and the neck, the regions she craved coincided flawlessly with the domains I desired. Consequently, our hours could be spent thoroughly enjoying ourselves for a long span until our entire anatomies became utterly inflamed, even without executing actual penetration.

Once those frantic, dizzying hours subsided, her breath was so intensely scalding that it offered a fully sufficient indicator of how thoroughly prepared she was. While it would have been entirely fine to initiate the act immediately from that juncture, whenever I chose to tantalize and agonize her a modicum longer with a mischievous prank, the mere grazing of our flesh would thoroughly drench the floor beneath us. Though I have encountered individuals who matched me well and others who matched me less up to this contemporary moment, it made me realize that between two individuals who possess a flawless compatibility, absolutely everything can manifest as magnificent.

Upon drenching the floor, she would invariably prepare the means to cleanse it, as though overcome with bashfulness, wiping the spot even while remaining in an utterly delirious state. I found that visage of hers to be immensely adorable. I occasionally ponder: What temperature did I maintain back then? What metric did she possess? Exactly how scorching was the temperature within that room?

While there existed such magnificent, joyful eras, there also existed a chapter characterized by a profound deficit of self-assurance. During a period when the intense stress of managing my enterprise peaked, I experienced what appeared to be significant hair thinning, prompting me to ingest hair loss medication for a duration of approximately two years. The physician had counseled me that because the medication influences male hormones, side effects such as a diminished libido might transpire. Upon actual consumption, no colossal side effects appeared to manifest initially; yet after persisting for over a year, a singular dilemma began to surface. I was unequivocally no longer identical to my former self. Consequently, instances arose where I inadvertently inflicted disappointment upon the girlfriend I was encountering during that epoch. Looking back from the contemporary moment, the medication was unequivocally a substantial culprit, yet back then, I remained largely oblivious to that reality. To the girlfriend of that era, I likely manifested as a man thoroughly destitute of vitality.

It was from the commencement of this current year that I entirely ceased the medication. Whether owing to that verdict or not, I have completely returned to my original state, passing far more extensive hours in a highly joyful manner; yet on the alternate hand, she—the one who matched me more flawlessly than any alternate individual I have ever encountered—frequently surfaces in my thoughts. Though we no longer initiate contact and I remain oblivious to where or how she passes her days, she appears to have imparted an exceptionally momentous lesson to me. That age carries zero consequence, and that the degree to which two individuals flawlessly match one another is what reigns supreme.

Lately, I exclusively surround myself with companions younger than myself; yet through the wealth of experience acquired alongside her, I harbor zero prejudice toward those whose years surpass mine. If two individuals remain entirely candid with one another, that single dimension proves fully sufficient to transcend a multitude of societal preconceptions. On a crisp, refreshing night precisely like tonight, it is a day when the nocturnal streets I once walked alongside her vividly return to mind.