Hudson and I celebrated our five year anniversary on October 2. We spent the day sweating - no, no, not from heavy petting - from slaving in the backyard of our cabin in Running Springs. Though it's more so Hudson's cabin, as he's the investor, he granted me permission to call it "our" cabin. As I forced my shovel into the rocky, impossible soil, I watched Hudson as he climbed on the top of the shed he and his father were building. A dude project at its best, they worked on it for three days straight. Hudson is a doer, and that's one of the reasons I love him. He doesn't waste time. He lives. He dreams for a short time then acts. Not many people do this. They think and they dream and they plan and they make lists but they never really accomplish, well, anything. On the morning of our anniversary, I slept in while Hudson and his parents drove down the winding mountain highway for more shed supplies. I opened up my laptop for the first time that weekend and embraced the crisp morning air, the back porch - breathing deeply, watching birds dart among the treetops. And I wrote the below blog post with the intent of posting it that morning. But the Internet failed, and I allowed weeks to pass before finally spilling my heart and mind into the blogosphere. Here we go.
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Five years ago tonight I kissed a boy at a Yeah Yeah Yeahs concert who has since then tolerated my deviant behavior and loved me despite knowing me better than anyone, even myself. Happy half decade, Hudson B. Wise.
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Five years ago tonight I kissed a boy at a Yeah Yeah Yeahs concert who has since then tolerated my deviant behavior and loved me despite knowing me better than anyone, even myself. Happy half decade, Hudson B. Wise.
I consider myself lucky in love, and I hope many of you out there echo this feeling. I’d never been in love before I met Hudson, hardly even dated. I’d move into the entertaining details of my elementary and middle school flames, my intense high school crushes and my reckless college interests, but my mom or your mom could read this, and I’d rather spare them the horror that once was Lauren Ashley Lloyd.
I love me at 28, and for that I partially have Hudson to thank. He is the most genuine, kindest person I’ve ever met, and I’ve learned from him that sometimes dissecting people and zeroing in on their strengths and faults only makes for a very agitated, unhappy social life. However, this is very difficult for me given that I’m a writer and excel in people-watching. He’s also taught me a thing or two in the kitchen – recipes are not always needed to create an incredible dish. From Hudson I’ve also learned to surf, and although I will never be great or even good, I stood up on the board twice for a nanosecond each a couple weeks back in San Onofre and am still feeling that rush of excitement and calm of accomplishment. And he’s taught me how to love.
John Lennon was spot-on when he penned “All You Need Is Love.” C’est completement vrai. Hudson and I have had countless high highs, minimal and forgettable low lows and often enjoy that comfortable middle ground that develops once you’ve been in a relationship for a considerable amount of time, once you see and love the same extraordinary being almost daily for years.
Sure, we’ll probably buckle down and succumb to societal tradition and marry, have children and buy a house along a California shore. Okay, so that last step is just a fantasy combined with the narrow possibility of winning the lottery. But for now, I love to love, and my left ring finger is content sans gem. Weddings are, in my world, a waste of time and money. Keep it simple. Save your money. Go see the world instead of inviting a drove of family and friends - some of whom you may not even love - to see you. To me, typical diamond engagement rings, while undoubtedly gorgeous, are just pieces of overpriced jewelry, advertised to society as the material item necessary to prove your love and commitment to someone. I don’t need a ring. And I especially don’t need a gem that originated in a land of corruption, slavery and murder. I’ve seen “Blood Diamond,” I know.
I just need an honest compadre, someone with whom my guard is down and being "on" is unnecessary. Someone who will love me for me, who will disagree when I call myself "fat." Someone who makes me feel at peace, at home, at ease. That someone is the man who became my first friend in California, my first love, my Hudson.
I just need an honest compadre, someone with whom my guard is down and being "on" is unnecessary. Someone who will love me for me, who will disagree when I call myself "fat." Someone who makes me feel at peace, at home, at ease. That someone is the man who became my first friend in California, my first love, my Hudson.
