I’m surprised by how quickly it returns. Like a song you didn’t know you still knew all the words to, the way you always instinctively remember your childhood address, your first phone number. Almost like muscle memory, pulling your credit card from your wallet without having to rifle through the slots, or your maiden name always at the tip of your tongue. Ingrained. The things cut into you at an early age, the ones closest to the core of who you are.
