In high school, I had a secret little place that only a select few people knew about. It was an old, abandoned football field that was off the road and surrounded on all sides by trees. It was completely hidden away. If you didn’t know exactly where it was then you would never discover it.

It was returning back to nature. The grass was tall and the only feet that disturbed it were mine and my friends. The only parts that remained from its football glory days were the two tall goal posts, now rusting, and the wooden bleachers that seemed as strong then as the day they were made.

My friends and I would take a blanket out there and lie in the grass under the stars. We would listen to music and talk for hours. Our conversations were long and deep. We talked about the future, the past, our dreams, or whatever our hearts’ desired. Sometimes we would stay out in the field until the early hours of the morning and watch the sun rise.

Days were just as incredible. The sun beat down on us. We would lie in the soft grass and let the warm sun soak into our skin. We would drink coke and let the cool drink be our only relief from the heat that now radiated inside of us. The tall grass tickled our arms and legs as we lie there. My friends and I would kick a soccer ball around or pick flowers. We were free to do whatever we wanted.

Our parents never knew where we were. It was our secret.


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