We thought, a year ago, that we'd be starting some dreadful new phase of our life there. It was dreadful, all right, but we're ending up right back where we started, at Mrs. UF's place on 1811 18th Street in the Dupont Circle neighborhood. But we're returning as a friend, not a husband, and the sadness we feel over this will not abate. It's a temporary arrangement, done out of an understanding that we like living together but not as husband and wife. Everybody says we're crazy. We know we're crazy, or we wouldn't even contemplate such a measure. That said, we'll be glad to be seeing the last of the Woodner, which was just too isolated for our tastes. It was a good two miles from Dupont Circle, and we never felt at home there. The halls were too wide and too empty, and our apartment, despite it's large windows, felt a bit too much like Hitler's Bunker. In short we were lonely there, and it wasn't homey. It was the kind of place that would have felt empty no matter how much furniture we crammed into it, and as it was we never tried. That said, it had a great view of Rock Creek Park, which would have been nice if we cared about such things. As it so happens, we prefer the view of Flat Rat Alley we get from the balcony of the apartment on 18th Street.
Anyway, the Woodner will soon become a talismatic landmark in our history, the place where everything went to pieces and nothing cohered. Soon it will become a magical place, one of those places, like 16 N. Washington Street in Shippensburg, where we were afforded the life-altering opportunity to live at the very limits of our nerve endings. We tend to end up romanticizing places like that. There's something to knowing that there we were at the very end of our wits, and there was no escape. We'll want to go back, we'll dream about it, it will become yet another legendary space where our nightmares forced us to confront the fact that there is no way out, that we were fucked from the very beginning--that we were born with our nerve endings on the outside of our body, and there wasn't a goddamn human thing we could do about it.