The waiter approached and we each plucked another glass from his tray before he disappeared back into the networking throng.
"Something a bit weird has happened" I said, turning towards my two friends seated next to me, raising my voice slightly against the music and chatter around us.
It started in the first couple of weeks of my new job, when sleep wasn't coming as easily as it might have done and I regularly found myself awake well into the night; mind skimming through topics like pages in a book. And it was over the course of these few nights, completely unprompted, that my thoughts kept returning to the same thing.
A name. Or rather, the lack of it.
This time last year, there was one name which made me feel sick, angry and upset in equal measure. Not his name - no, that would be impossible to forget - but her name, the "someone else". I spent a good few months last year hurling every sort of horrendous thought in her direction, thinking of him and this faceless name. And now, whenever I try to remember it, it's not there. No matter how hard I try to recall it, the name has completely dropped from my memory.
Sometimes I get close and land on what could be the first letter, then a barrier - almost physical in its intensity - shuts down my thought process and leaves me with nothing. If I try to think of it, every path that might help me get there seems blocked.
It's a strange thing to notice, and a stranger thing to comment on, the non-existence of something, but I've recorded every other reaction to the break up, and this is a new one to add to the mix.
The PIB took a sip of her drink. "Maybe it's when you go through something unexpected and stressful, if something hurt you for long enough, then eventually your brain will step in and stop it."
Whatever the reasoning, as I said to my friends, it's just a bit weird. Of all the survival mechanisms you put in place to get over things, it seems strange to come across one, more than a year down the line, that you weren't even conscious of doing.