Greatest Hits.

Hit by a car again this summer on my bike. This time the motorist decided he didn't want to wait for me so he honked once and then drove by me, hitting me and pinning me between his Mercedes and parked cars. I put my foot down to keep from falling over. He drove over it. My adrenaline surged. He sped off, rap blaring from his car.

I tried to get the license tag to no avail and he turned and was gone. I pedaled to find him, but no luck. I jumped off my bike and pulled off my now blackend, grease-ridden shoe to see if my foot still worked. It does, somehow. It hurts, but the piggies still wiggle and it isn't swollen. Yet I felt an entire car roll over my foot. I can now say I know what that feels like. Silver lining I suppose.

All it does is teach me to be a better biker and smash the guys window next time he tries something like that.

Somehow I like that it happened as it made me think about dying, or maybe walking with a limp for the rest of my life. It made me think about people I care about. People I miss. People I love. Have I told them all that I love them? Not all of them. Better get on that...

On Repeat.

Once, sometime before 1st grade or so, I was the only boy invited to an all girls birthday party. Girls seemed to always just love me for some reason. The party went well from what I remember. A clown and balloons shaped like wiener dogs. Once we were through with the typical party rituals and were allowed free roam a game was spontaneously created by one of the girls: "Get the boy."

You know how the Beatles felt with hordes of screaming girls running after them? Yeah, I do.

I ran and looked for a place to hide. A closet was open. I flew inside and flung the door shut - on to many, many pairs of little girlish fingers.

I opened the door and said sorry, but multiple girls were already crying. And the girl throwing the party said, "I don't like you anymore."

Ever since that day my life and relationships have more or less been a repeat of those events - minus the clown and the wiener dogs.

I seem to get along with women better than men, I become their friend or boyfriend quickly and it's amazing and fresh and each day is a glowing orb of possibility. And then something happens. One accident - and nothing meant to hurt anyone. And without warning, "I don't like you anymore."

I'm on repeat. And I don't know what to do about it. I'm walking around terrified of closing their fingers in the door.