A curious thing happened the other week.
I received an e-mail from someone I hadn't been in contact with for over a decade, someone whose e-mail address I'd forgotten was still in my directory.
Alas, it was not an actual communication, but one of those automated spam messages that indicates the sender's e-mail account has been hacked.
This rogue anonymous mail purported to come from a girl I'd fallen in love with when I was living in Toronto in the 1990s (this one, in fact). And the change of surname on the account announced to me that she must have got married.
After nearly 15 years, it really shouldn't cause me such a pang. And yet it does.