I've never felt attached to one location enough to call it home. My neighborhood in Gentilly was home for over 15 years, but it was more routine and familiar than "home." Katrina took those memories and made that place simply a part of my past. Thereafter, I found home in dorm rooms and apartment complexes. But, I never actually laid my head down to rest in my own place.

It's a maturing feeling to have. To come "home" after a day of work is an accomplished feeling. One can actually appreciate every aspect of his environment, control what he sees, smells, and feels.

I have finally found that place. I now have my own home to come to. My apartment serves me, not my parents, not my roomates, and not my dorm room. I am not alone there though. I have a partner, a friend, a roomate, and most importantly, a lover there to greet me when I walk through the door, and someone to welcome in when I arrive first.

Yet, it is still my home. It is her home. It is our home. And, I miss it. Hurricane Gustav scared us into leaving, but didn't take it from us. And, I am thankful.

But, I miss it...