to all the girls I’ve never loved before...

Here is a representative slice of apologetic data for all the girls I've never loved and true stories of preemptive avoidance of intimacy. All I can say is that I'm sorry but there is only so much of me to go around...

To the girl who always tried to kiss me...
I was 4 years old and so were you. You were just slightly bigger and stronger than me. You clearly had a crush on me, but I wanted to crush that crush. We were 4! Did you really think we had a shot at a real romantic relationship? Did you think I was going to support you on my allowance? Well, if you bothered to ask me any questions instead of just jumping on me and kissing me, I could have explained it all to you. Besides, I thought you looked like a pig and I hated your irritating lisping baby-talk speech impediment.

To the creepy girl who would stare at me when I tried to use the toilet...
I don't fully blame you. There were no doors on our communal unisex kindergarten restroom. The teacher probably assigned you to check up on me anyway. But you were stupid and insane and filthy. I know that your behavior was somehow modified by a bad home life. So I'm sorry for the mean things that I said, even though they were just toned down versions of the truth. Oh, you were a filthy beast. I saw you a few years later overdosing apparently just to get attention. What you didn't seem to realize is that all that commotion turns to white noise and you become invisible.

To my aunt who trapped me in the stairway and smothered me with kisses...
No means no! Seriously, I felt like I was being raped. Sorry I didn't bite you in the face but I was afraid I'd catch more diseases from your blood than your saliva.

To the leader of the “girl gang”...
I know that I was the greatest presence to grace our 1st grade class. But that didn't take much, did it? I suppose that many men would have dreamed of being captured by your gang of girls and held in your arms, but those men are perverts, and I was a little boy who just wanted to be left alone. And how did this become something where you brought me to robert so he could sit on me? Did you really think we’d have a relationship after that? Besides, how could I have spent real quality time with all of you girls and robert? The relationship was not well thought out on your part. Did you never notice that I was trying to avoid you? That’s why I was running.

(Robert, I know you are not a girl, but you sure acted like one quite often. I have to admit that I was a bit disturbed that you always wanted to sit on me after the girls caught me. But I was far more disturbed when you showed up in my first grade class a couple of months after school started. It didn’t help that you were somehow able to get the kid next to me to move so you could take his place. When you explained to me that you threw a tantrum every day until they finally sent you to my class, I was thoroughly and officially creeped out.)

To all the girls in my second grade class...
The only reason I was going to read your valentine cards is because I was a hired spy and had to see if your valentines and other notes sent to other kids in school were true or just “seasons greetings”. Well, I never got a chance to look at any of them anyway but I didn’t lose much money on the deal.

To all the girls in the 3 third grade classes in my school...
I know you weren’t all in love with me, but I had to make sure that YOU knew. That’s why I systematically broke each and every one of your tiny little hearts. It took me hours to copy with carbon paper the over 80 notes with 3 different themes - I sent you (by sneaking into your classes and placing them in each of your desks, which is easy when you’re a spy). I’d like to make a special apology now, to the girl in my class who’s note was intercepted by the teacher. I know that the teacher’s plan was to embarrass me by reading my love note to you in front of the class. Although it was classic to see her facial expressions shift as she read, “roses are red, violets are blue, this scrap is just garbage and so are you”, I still felt bad that the teacher was too stupid to stop reading and made you cry. I know that many other girls were crying that day as well, but your tears were the ones that hurt. I mean, little girls really don’t seem to like that sort of thing. So, I can’t remember your name, but I remember that day and sometimes wonder if I destroyed lives. I had no idea people could be so fragile. So sorry.

I guess it only makes sense that I can’t think of any girls who liked me for the rest of grade school...

To that girl who was always staring at me in seventh grade and finally got the courage to sit next to me on the bus...
I’m somewhat sorry that the first thing I ever said to you was, “you have snot hanging out of your nose”, but it was true, you did. Besides, I was pretty sure that if I said it, you would instantly hate me and leave me alone. I was right. But I am a bit sorry. Why did you try to push the thing back into your nose though? That was just twisted!

To the girl who would always rub up against me while asking me questions in eighth grade civics class...
So you were cute, big deal. You obviously liked me because you knew I never studied or paid attention in civics class, yet you were constantly coming over to my desk to ask questions. I chose to answer your questions (as though I actually cared about civics) and ignore your small breasts being pushed up against my left arm. How far did you think this relationship would go in civics class? Then one day (years later) you happened to meet me in a convenience store halfway between Minneapolis and Duluth and showed me how you had surgery to correct your slightly skewed lower jaw. You used to be cute, now you were pretty. I told you that you looked better before the surgery, sorry about that. Anyway, what did you expect? We had 5 minutes together in the snack aisle of a convenience store, and you couldn’t even think of any civics questions to ask me.

To the girl on my bus when I was in ninth grade, who was always nice to me and was telling everybody except me how much she liked me...
I have to admit I was a bit flattered, but you wore so much makeup that I knew your face was eroding beneath that carefully plastered and smoothed exterior. So when you finally indicated your fondness for me, I knew it could never work. My face was smooth and tight, your face was invisible. Plus, the only thing we had in common was that we rode the same school bus and were forced to listen to Def Leppard together, but I think you enjoyed it.

To the girl at the arcade who rubbed her body up against me while pretending the huge arcade door was too narrow...
Of course I ignored you. You were looking for a reaction. I kept talking to my friend and pretended you weren’t spending an inordinate amount of time and energy passing me by. I knew you were trying to get my attention because there was a lot more up and down motion than side to side motion. But I ignored you and you got bored and left. Sorry, but it must not have been love.

To the girl who seemed to hang on my every word...
You were impressed by the fact that we had the same last name. Your friends were impressed when I tore a five dollar bill in half. I talked to you quite often until I noticed that the way you playfully stood back on your heels and tilted your head was very odd indeed. Were you just looking up my nose? If not, what were you doing? Obviously, after such a profound moment of revelation I had to stop talking to you forever.

To the girl at the mall who liked my pants...
I apologize for my pathetic response. You said, “I like your pants”. I said nothing. You said, “aren’t you going to thank me?” I said, “why should I? You didn’t give them to me”.

I cannot apologize enough for that terrible line, I was irritated with your pickup line and tried my very popular ignoring you routine, but you forced me to say something. I didn’t have time to prepare something clever. Besides, we were at the mall during the 80’s. What self respecting person wearing jeans covered in triangular patches would allow himself to get involved in 80’s mall romance? What did you think we would do, open our own shop? Eat ice cream cones together? It doesn’t make sense. The relationship wouldn’t have worked. I’m just sorry I had to use such a poor quality line to set everything right.

To the group of girls in the high school hallway who pinched me and giggled as I walked by...
What was that? Did you all like me? Were you just goofing off? A lunch hour relationship between the five of us wouldn’t have worked anyway so I didn’t bother to turn around and see who you were.

To the girl that thought I was complimenting her...
I told you you looked almost exactly like someone I went to school with. You said, “Thank you.” Where did that come from? I couldn’t say anything else. You may have been thinking, “If the girl he goes to school looks like me she must be pretty”, but that would still be the same as saying “You look like yourself”. That’s not a compliment, just an observation. Sorry about starting that lack of conversation. And you know I was sorry because I never spoke to you again.

To the girl who was my friend but not my girlfriend who was always trying to make me jealous...
I liked you, but I was more like a father than a friend. You were smart but needed help. I tried to explain life to you but you could never get it. If you didn’t need so much parenting then maybe I could have seen you differently. But you remained a perpetual child, and I moved on. So we had a lot in common, big deal, that’s no basis for a relationship. If my life plan was to suffer I would have at least found a woman who was financially stable so I wouldn’t have to work while dealing with her noise.

To the girl at the graduation party...
You were staring at me all night and smiling. You seemed like you were trying to get my attention. We talked for about 5 minutes at the end of the evening and I left because the numbers didn’t crunch. You were a gymnast and on the swim team, I was wearing a shiny blue jacket. It never could have worked out.

To all the moms who pushed their daughters at me directly or indirectly...
You raised lovely young ladies. Kudos. But I always knew that you were interested in me and that’s why you pushed your girls my way. I guess you just wanted someone in the family to benefit from my presence. That was very unselfish of you. But I thought the whole thing through. I would have to come and visit you on occasion for family events and so on. Even if you didn’t get jealous, you and I would know the truth even though unspoken. And I think you can understand how that could get really weird and creepy. So, I never could have started a relationship with your daughters. Now if you were 20 years younger, maybe things would have been different between us, unless granny had her eye on me. You must have really loved me though, or you were just thinking how you never married the young broke artist (who rode a bicycle) when you had the chance.

To the girl I fell in "love" with at first sight...
Sorry I never bothered to tell you, but it would have been a hassle and a waste of our time. I'm sure you had better things to do than waste a couple of months dating me. And I certainly didn't want to waste any more of my time thinking irrationally. So you can understand why I never spoke to you again.

To the woman who used to rub her body against me in my office while I was explaining how we were going to develop her company web site...
I tried to ignore you, I tried to move further over on the desk but pretty soon you had me pressed up against the wall, with your chest pushed firmly against my right arm. I remained cold and distant. At our next meeting, I put out my hand to shake yours and you knocked it out of the way and threw your arms around me in front of many colleagues. I kept my arms at my side and said, “this is very professional”. You certainly had a knack for attaining maximum one-sided intimacy in a very public glass walled office. You wanted to come work for me but you had already hugged yourself out of a job.

To the countless women and girls who have feigned interest in me...
Why were you wasting your time and mine? I couldn't shake you, you were always around me like a swarm of insects. Did you think I was famous? I could tell you weren't interested in me. Did you not know that you weren't interested? You would just stand there and stare at me adoringly. Maybe you just thought I was nice to look at. So were some of you, but I wasn't going to waste my time following you around and staring. So, I'm sorry I left you in my wake and ignored you, but there's no way I could have told all of you to piss off.

In conclusion: So, ladies, even though the purpose of my actions was primarily not to waste my own time, by extension, your time was not wasted by me. You would have been hurt worse when I dumped you or worse still if you were able to fool me into marrying you. It was best that it ended before it began.

P.S. To the numerous gay men who harassed me throughout my life but especially between the years 1988-1991...
You really didn't think this relationship through at all!!! You're not even girls! How could you have possibly expected that to work? I rarely ran from a mugger or a drug dealer or thugs on the street because I knew their intentions were honorable (except the gay ones). You have given me good reason to be “homophobic”, so I ran. Fast. I hope for your sake none of you were heartbroken girls who got sex changes because you thought I was gay. Of course, perhaps that is less disturbing. Oh, and by the way, it is not flattering to be chased by a gay man. Nor is it really a compliment, when that compliment comes from a dirty sticky pervert.