My honeymoon, May 1982. We were broke, so we stayed at a guest house for a rainy, mildewed week. I learned to play Ms. Pac-Man in an empty arcade.
As that marriage tanked, I spent a bitter April afternoon on the beach with someone I’d never see again. It marked my end of belief.
And the last time, Rich and I drove there as dawn was breaking, just for the day. We were in the sun too long, and drank too much, so I ended up unable to bend my sunburned knees, and vomiting beside the road back to Washington.
365/radical elements 
I mean this in a good way: It evokes a hollowness. Just empty.
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So you like the place, eh?
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Oh dear god, this cursed place will NEVER appear on my “to go there before I die” list.
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I have a fondness for DE, because one of my dear friends lives there, and I used to visit on my business trips to DC. Not the beach though. Clearly, I didn’t miss anything!
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It’s not a bad beach town – just my relationship with it is difficult! I remember it having a great fries-and-milkshake place on the boardwalk, and some really good pizza.
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I’ve been there. But not in the ways you have. I love how you wrote this. Kind of like a triptych.
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