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.