Making one continuous mistake.

You may be surprised, but I am not good with girls. There are many reasons for this. I could tell you that I am very specific in my tastes. I could tell you that I don’t need a woman to feel good about myself. I could tell you I don’t like blondes. All of these would be at most half-truths. For the most part the reason I am not good with girls is because, like pretty much  anything, they scare the shit out of me.

When I was in preschool a girl fell in love with me. She told me so. Her name started with an A. I think. It was a small Ipswich school. I spent most of my time reading behind the reading curtain and being teased because I couldn’t use the playground properly. The girl was smart and quiet and awkward like me. I had never even met girls before. I had a sister but she was a sister not a girl. I did not know what it meant when she said she was in love with me. I didn’t even know how to pronounce line without being teased. She cried and told me I had broken her heart when I married my preschool teacher in a big faux ceremony.

Primary school was rough for a lad like me. My grade one class would clap when I used words that I used in everyday conversation at home. I started at an anglican school halfway through the year. I was the perpetual new kid. The class treated like a pariah. One girl looked after me. She tried to teach me to tie my shoelaces. She always smiled when I entered the room. She showed me where the toilets were. She asked me if I wanted to hang out with her during lunchtimes. I told her no.

In my late primary school years I attended a tiny country school of about 60 kids. About 1% of the kids there were my friends. Lunchtimes were sitting near the sand pit and looking tortured and having tennis balls thrown at me. I guess I was still an academic kid, though I was definitely not smart. Especially when it came to geography. A pretty Nigerian girl once came up to me while I was working on an art project. It was a painting of a cobra that made my  teacher yell at me because it was so terrible. The girl asked me if I would ever like a Nigerian girl. I did not know Nigerian was a nationality. I did not know what to think. Kids had been cruel to me, I once got slapped for asking a girl what a condom was. So when it came to answering questions like these I did what I always did. I said no.

Ladies?

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