I miss lockn

Take me back to the open field where we stayed all day listening to bands play songs we didn’t know and songs we knew by heart. We danced to Tom Petty, laughed hysterically, and yelled “run down a dream, Tom” between each song. Take me back to cooking up eggs and bacon inside the shelter where the heat from the stove made us sweat instantly. We didn’t have access to real showers, so we set the solar shower bag on the roof of my car and let gravity work her magic. For once, I didn’t even mind feeling dirty and gross.

Take me back to waking up too early in a tent with the sun shining in my eyes. Where I didn’t put on an ounce of make-up for four days straight. Take me to the place where we met a man named “rock n roll” who started every morning with a glass (or two, or three) of Whiskey.

Take me to that night we spent sitting on top of my car with our legs dangling through the sunroof while we watched the sunset over the blue ridge mountains. We left permanent dents in the roof of my car. They’re only noticeable to someone who cares enough to remember how they were made.

Take me back to the night we stood under a forest full of tree flushed in rainbow lights while a band played songs neither of us knew — Where, in a crowd of hundreds, I randomly met that boy from my hometown, who knows my friends and family.

I want to be surrounded by tents and trees and makeshift flagpoles holding flags to show where people came from. I want to be where all I care about is hearing good music, in the sun, next to you.

10660285_688425459305_4977967308820404012_n (photo stolen from russ lafleur)

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