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January 6, 2002
I got into a bad habit. When I missed her the very most, I’d walk out the door and down the street. She lived about two miles away. So I’d usually stumble (drunk) down the road until I came to her building. It always smelled damp, moldy. Lots of Boston buildings had that musty smell.

I never once rang her bell.

Either I knew I shouldn’t bother her. Or was way too scared of who might actually answer the door. Our relationship was just that way. We had the best of times when we were together, which wasn’t often enough.