Homesick.

You know, that lovely piece of music that plays at EVERY wedding? It won't be playing at mine, but it has played at every wedding I have ever been to.

It reminds me of Nathan Barber. The long haired, starving musician/pizza maker guy that I met two years ago. He worked at my favorite pizza place in downtown Chattanooga, drove a little red pickup, and had the longest most fluffy blonde hair I had ever seen. Ever. He also lived with his best friend, Nathan, and together, they made up "The Nate's". Heather Lynn and I were utterly fascinated by those two, and found ourselves trickling in their door every Friday night.

It was there that I discovered my true passion for art, politics, the wars of past and present, and every human issue under the sun. It was there that I learned my small amount of french, not to judge, to only speak my mind, and to really learn from the opinions of others.

Those days were some of the best and worst drunken nights I have ever had, best conversations, and best laughter I have ever heard. Those were the days of honest infatuation, and one of the best learning expieriences I have ever had.

If I could be anywhere right now, I would be sitting on Heather Lynn's porch. Watching her smoke a cigarette, and wondering aloud where our life is going to take us. Oak Street. The only place where I have never felt judged. Where I could dance around barefoot in the middle of the street at 3am after too much red wine, lay down in the middle of that same road and take pictures of the moon, and laugh with my best friend because we always know "more" then everyone else.

I miss those times. I miss last year. I miss people who could really feel their life as it happened.