My Life in Letters – “D” is for Donny

Me and my ex-boyfriend

It’s hard to remember a time growing up when I didn’t have a crush. I was just that kind of girl. If you looked at me, I loved you. Which meant that I spent a great deal of my time in heartbreak because 9 times out of 10, well, actually more like 9.99 times out of 10 the crushee didn’t return the sentiment.

I remember my first crush, my first love. He wore purple socks, had perfect Chiclet gum teeth, and a voice that made my little girl heart beat out of my chest and I loved him more than any Barbie, more than any thing, I loved him.

His name was Donny. He never really knew me, but I knew him well. I watched him from afar and decided I would marry him one day because he had pretty brown hair and could sing songs about feelings I wanted to wear like a grownup. Feelings that wouldn’t really fit my 8 year old self, but I didn’t care because Donny understood “how a young heart really feels and why I love(d) (him) so.” I’m quite sure I played the scene out in my head over and over again as I fell asleep, his songs echoing in my hopeful mind.

It’s funny how anything’s possible in a heart that still believes in fairy tales, still believes in princes and Quixote-like devotion. I knew we would marry. I would find a way for him to know me. I would be his “Puppy Love“.

Sadly, that day never came.  I clearly remember lying in my bed one night looking at my poster of Donny Osmond, his big brown almond eyes looking out into my room that I shared with my brother in that sad little ramshackle house on Causton Bluff. The home where I could hear Lupo, the German Shepard who had crawled underneath the house and positioned himself just under the tub where I bathed, throwing up some bad chemical-laden grass or maybe a foul river rat.

It was in that house, in that bed with my brother sleeping across the room underneath a poster of his crush, Linda Rondstadt, who wore hot pants and roller skates with her perfect cupid bow lips, that I finally realized it would never happen. I would never marry Donny Osmond.

And it was in that bed, one night that I cried myself to sleep for the love I had decided was mine before I even had it. The love I had to let go before I had even known it. Without even knowing me, Donny Osmond had broken my heart.

Flash forward many, many, years, crushes, heartbreaks and wonderful husband, later and I find myself watching Dancing with the Stars rooting for my former crush. He looks happy and I’m glad, because I am too.

Without my crush on Donny I might never have felt the early flutterings of my heart. I really believe that since the heart is a muscle it needs to be worked out.  My crushes were nothing but workouts making me stronger and stronger – preparing me for the real Donny whose name just happened to be Warner.

Post to Twitter Tweet This Post

2 Comments

  • By Lyn, February 7, 2010 @ 3:49 pm

    Oh, that brings back some memories. My crush wasn’t Donny, it was Bjorn from Abba. Yes, I was going to marry him, then I realised he was married to Agnetha. I was so excited later when they had their son, Chrisyian, on my 12th birthday. Like you,Michelle, I had so many crushes growing up. Oh, those innocent times. ha.

Other Links to this Post

  1. » The love letter to Jesus Danny and the lessons I learned — February 9, 2010 @ 5:07 am

RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URI

Leave a comment

WordPress Themes

© 2010 All Rights Reserved -- Copyright notice by Blog Copyright