that 70's mistake

all my love

We were in the second grade when we met. I remember it clear as day - Donna Pinciotti. She strutted onto my driveway with her father, holding a pot of freshly baked brownies to share. I thought she was absolutely breathtaking - or well as breathtaking as a seven year old can get to a mere little boy. I haven't seen many pretty girls in my short lifetime, but she surely met the standards I was holding up. The sun gleamed down on the two of us, revealing the golden strands hidden in her vibrant red hair. Light brown freckles were speckled across her nose and cheeks evenly and her azure eyes sparkled when the light hit. And then... she punched me. "Stop looking at me funny." She hissed aggressively. I clutched my stomach before looking up at her, dazed. At that moment, I fell deeply and irreversibly in love with her.

Fast forward to being 16 years old. Donna began to hang out with me more and more. On sunny days, rainy days, windy days - it didn't matter. She was always there, sitting there on the rugged couch, in my basement. Yeah, the rest of the gang was there too but that doesn't really matter, does it? I felt that there was definitely a connection between us - an unnamed spark that we just didn't know much about. I liked her for sure, hell, I was head over heels for her. Did she feel the same? I have no idea. All I know is that days in the basement were something I was looking forward to everyday and that time moved at the speed of light when I was with her. You know what they say, 'time goes fast when you're having a good time'. Well, it was like that with her. Every time was a good time with her, even when she was beating me up mercilessly or burning me with her otherwise offensive roasts.