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Sweet Serendipity June 6, 2006

Posted by Matt Hurst in Personal Life, Prose.

Even on a bad day New York City broods with romance; kissing under an umbrella in the rain. I can still remember the day we met, if only because I was a nervous wreck. I was taking a break in the lobby reading over my blue book of prose and poems. Lara approached me before she was set to arrive, and I jumped up and gave her a hug embrace. She was still wet from the rain that poured all morning and afternoon, so I took her up to my room to dry off. I pushed myself through the awkwardness of the night morning preceeding this moment, and because I knew a kiss would do it I looked her in the eyes and embraced her lips in the elevator up to my room. In the room the kiss would continue, trading comments about the room itself in between. We made plans to run back to her place for some packing of her own; she had only arrived the same day, but we already knew we would be staying together in the hotel room’s privacy. 17 floors above the world, but a whole world away from the perspective before.

There is a large in between to speak of later. She filled my stomach with neighborhood falafel, made our way to the cozy 2 bedroom in Williamsburg, traded terrible dirty jokes all the way, and she introduced me to her world. I clenched my nervousness as my heart raced all day, driving it into conversational laughs. Her laugh, smile, sweet eyes, the smell of her hair, all carried through the humid swelter on rainful over the city. Her kiss itself could warrant an essay, perhaps even a thesis of its own. I will save the more graphic detail for ourselves.

Our day in the sun has risen between the avenues and high rise building of the city; and we have met each others eyes in their glow (though I am sure it could be her own). She doesn’t know as I write, sound in slumber with her curly hair freed to the joy of all who meet her without a straightening iron. Her body is covered in a tapestry of mixed and matched blue, yellow, and gold; I could care less what covers it, but it does show a taste of her own. Her music is terribly classic, removed of the immediate nature my sounds of the moment passing through one month to another. Her voice is much softer and rounded than a phone call could ever reveal. Her laugh is still a bird’s song, sweet as a spring morning air. Her hair twirls and swoon as the flight of a birch in the morning, and her skin is soft and feels like home to hands wrapping in it.

lara love

I am in love with Lara; for once she loves me back. I love her for all the reasons above, and for more yet to be listed. I love her humbleness, her fragile self-conciousness, her brilliant mind, her observedness, her quick wit, her endless compassion for others, and her conversational openess, among other things. She is kind and sweet, but with a blunt honesty that refreshes all in her presence.

It is a tremendous feeling that is still difficult to put into words, but rather some kind of understanding or knowing; I love her as she is. Even her flaws have a cham all their own. She balances off my doubts as I in turn balance her own. In short, we work together as a unit, stronger for the other but acting as equals. I have waited my whole life to meet someone like her, and would gladly journey accross the world again just to know her. I never thought I could fully understand the word, but I will use it knowingly and proudly – I love Lara.



1. adam_alligator - June 7, 2006

What a beautiful thing to read before bed time.I have much gladness for the both of you šŸ™‚

2. tastycookies - July 22, 2006

i was reading your entries and came across this one all over again. i am so deeply moved by this, you have no idea. i love you so much and it is so refreshing to know you love me just as much in return.

i can’t, can’t, can’t wait to see you my dear. the 28th can’t come soon enough!

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