Just a glance.

Hey, it's you! I think. 

At first I can't help but see the seven year-old girl with wild long brown hair, glasses, skinny legs and an awkward smile. She always seemed a little nervy, but also away with the fairies. Her parents wore farm fleeces and jeans. She was a Rainbow. 

But it's not you. Not that you, anyway. Not the you I knew. No, that's not you. 

You're him, now. He wears snappy suits and brogues, a leather satchel slung over one shoulder. His hair is cut close to the scalp, a slight curl hinting through it, shaved at the back on the neck. 

His smile is unreal - it's huge...genuine...comfortable. 

I catch your eye and smile in acknowledgement - yes, it's me, we knew each other back then. 

I swear I receive a smile back, a sparkle in the eyes, and I detect a sense of pride in there. No fear. 

Seeing you this morning while we wait for a train has made my day. You're with friends, all going somewhere. School? College? How old must you be now? 

Old enough to know who you are, and be yourself. 

I could burst with joy. 

You're you, now. You're him, and you're you.