You tried to remember the birthday. It wasn't there.
You probably got the outline. The restaurant, who sat where, maybe the cake. Then you reached for what it actually felt like to be you that night, and there was nothing to hold on to.
That isn't a bad memory. Nobody wrote it down, so the only copy lived in your head, and that copy has been rewritten every time you have thought about it since.
Here is the harder part. Tonight is next in line.





