After I'd answered all his questions, we'd fallen into the comfort of us. I kissed him, then gently asked if he was taking care of himself, and B recited all the recent precautions he'd been taking health wise. He never really minded my questions, and always seemed particularly proud of reporting his activities for my approval and satisfaction. It was a sign of respect, of some sense of him wanting me to be proud of him.
Maybe because in the last year we'd known each other, I'd been there through his moves, his promotions and transfers, through soccer training, through the illness of a parent, the death of a relative, through the ups and downs of living in LA, and now, through two birthdays. I'd been present for him with or without words. And he had missed me.