It had been nearly 10 years, I’d stopped thinking about you long ago. You’d changed, but then again, so had I. But the instant you spoke, that slightly too deep voice, the naughty laugh and the way you grabbed  my arm when you laughed, it was just like the way it was but more cynical, a little bitter.  While I have significantly more pressing things to remember, I still know your birthday and still remember the way you smelt.

I wonder if it’ll be another 10 years.