My First Boyfriend

Donny and I had gone to the same grade school for as long as I could remember, and we knew each other. He was a grade older. He went off to high school and I spent Grade 8 not giving him another thought.

The next year, I was at the high school too. I chewed through a ridiculous amount of crushes, and in my 14 year old drama, believed by spring break that I’d never ever ever ever have a boyfriend.

I wish I could remember what got us together. I have a vague memory of a friend intervening with messages between us of liking and interest.

Soon we were holding hands and smiling at each other and writing pages of notes back and forth to each other.

He was painfully cute. He wasn’t much bigger than me. I doubt he was much more than 5’2” at the time. His hair was jet black and his eyes dark dark brown. His eyebrows were perfectly shaped and yes, he had those gorgeous black eyelashes. His skin was light brown. He was a little punk, seriously. His hair was chopped off in ragged edges and he wore those cheap rubber toe cap sneakers. His clothes were ripped up and held together with those iron on band crests.

I couldn’t figure out for the life of me why I hadn’t noticed him in grade 7.

Probably because he was a total smart mouthed snot nosed little punk ass.

Which, by the time I got to Grade 9, had started to very much appeal to me.

This being 1985, he loaned me mix tapes with the Clash, the Sex Pistols, U2, and the Cure. We haunted thrift stores together and bought matching mustard yellow men’s shirts. We sat together in the school cafeteria holding hands. He kissed me cautiously at first, and eventually we were smooching under the stairwell across from the Agriculture classroom. I don’t know why he took Ag. He wasn’t from a farming family. He wrote the final exam with his fingers because he didn’t bring a pen. What a smartass. I adored him. I’d never touched somebody else’s tongue before. So, so careful. So curious and afraid.

We were darn cute together too. If we’d stayed together forever, we’d have had tiny petite brown eyed babies with olive skin and waves of thick dark hair. They’d have been gorgeous too. Just like him.

Never once in the four months of going together did I meet his parents. My sister knew them, because she was casual friends with his little sister. In a small place like that, you’d be friends with someone just by default, just from being in the same class. We heard weird stories about how detached the mother was and how rude the father was. There was a brother too, who was less than a year older, bigger, and way more badass. Donny sometimes dropped by our farm on his way hitchhiking down the road, but never stayed long. He was the only kid I knew of who was more poverty stricken than me. He also had more pride than he knew how to handle. If he couldn’t pay his own way, he wouldn’t go.

I broke up with him that summer.


I wasn’t as in love with him as I thought I was, and I felt like I had to let him go before things got too deep. I didn’t think it was fair to him to keep it going. But I felt awful. I felt like I broke his heart. I second guessed my decision but it was done.
He really liked me. All those summer days that we were alone together and I knew damn well he wanted more than kisses but he never forced anything.

I have no idea where he is now and I hope wherever he is, he’s okay. He’s a good guy, deep down, just a kid with no self esteem from a messed up family in a small town.

The last time I saw him, we were at a bush party. He looked different. His hair was longer, all one length, and he was about four inches taller than me. He still wore his beat up leather jacket and he was still beautiful. We stood there chatting while my boyfriend at the time was in a situation involving beer, shouting, punching, and the biggest meanest metal head in the area.

Little did I know at the time that I was in the company of my ex boyfriend, current boyfriend and future husband that night. But that’s really another story.

I’d like to see him again because I don’t know if he realizes how special he was to me. Wherever he is, I hope he’s found his way, and I hope he’s found a little woman to care for him like he deserves.