The plunging hills entering into his gravel road wake me from an uncomfortable nap. Laying in the passenger's seat my stomach drops. “How close are we?” I ask, hoping we are coming to the end of this windy drive. “We are close, I promise,” he answers, smiling as he revs the gas pedal, pumping his car through the hills. He knows he’ll get a smile on my face if he drives fast. I situate myself up, making eye contact with a herd of dingy horses. I don't think I should have packed so many photoshoot outfits. Leaning softly into the seat I rest my eyes for a few moments once again.

Burning wood forces me to wake up. The crunch of the gravel being run over from the rubber tire swiftly overwhelms my ears. “Good morning,” he says, shaking my leg waiting for me to get up. The windows gradually rolled down as my hair flowed back into the seat. Clean air never tasted so sweet. I reach my body out of the window like a child. As I whip out dirt flies in my eyes quickly as if I was a target. I pull myself back in and rub my eyes. What was I thinking, he's going to think I am stupid. Pine trees swallow the gravel road for miles as the sun comes to a close. I feel him gradually press the brake and pull this wheel right. “Are we here?” I question, cheesing so hard I'm trying not to smile. “Yes!” He answers, in the same tone as mine. The excitement ripples through my veins. 

I open my door after he places the car in park and I step out. Stretching my body like bird wings I am overtaken by the beautiful sounds of tweeting birds. Wind ruffles through the towering trees roaring whilst the pine needles float through the air. Acres of pondering grass fill the earth floor waiting to be roamed. Two buildings take up his property. The original building sits sadly surrounded by brightful trees, urging it to be used once again. The other building sits high and mighty. Fresh concrete sits, opening into its entrance as the garage sits tight to the left. “This is the place?!” I say embracing the idea that he had so many more stories to tell me after taking in the scenery. “Yes, baby. My place,” he says, grabbing my waist and effortlessly lifting me up to twirl me around. As he drops me to the ground, the life he has told me about surrounds me in holograms. I stare at the rope swing to the left of the house. He built that with his dad and almost broke his neck when he first got on it. He wraps his sweaty hand around mine and tugs me to the original bundling. The “OG building” he likes to say. Placing my foot on the splintered board I take a step. I make eye contact with a wooden sign engraved beautifully above the crooked porch swing. Dooders Place reads engraved softly on the wooden sign waiting to enjoy our company underneath. Reading the sign in my head I believed that one day this could be our place. Reaching for the burnt orange rusted handle I take another breath. “Thank you for everything,” I say, forcing my affection on him. “Of course,” He says, smiling as he pushes me inside. Happiness at last.