I did dirt. I admit. After hours dirt. Waiting for his phone call after 1:00am kind of dirt. Watching out extra for the text or the call. I looked forward to it. I had no expectation of how long it was going to last. I didn't even think about what he really thought about me, or if he even cared to know the real me. There was something about the drive there that felt conniving; as if I had to wear all black and turn off my headlights as I pulled up to his drive. But my Celica's lights never turn off.
I was in touch with myself fully and knew what I wanted. I didn't want more. I knew exactly what I was doing. I'd get the call, drive over, do dirt, and leave in the morning and go about my day. It was a thrill. I felt a part of womanhood that I never knew existed. Whether it was wrong or right, it happened. And it happened after hours. It happens to people. To men. To women.
It happens after hours.
...but it never stays like that forever...
