Every drop of flame

On Monday night, I drove Dune to her cousin's flat in South London -- where she will be staying for a week or so, she says to give my parents a rest, and to give us all a chance to miss her. It's funny how quickly you get used to having someone around, my parents agree that the house seems quiet now, and my Mum in particular loved having a girl about the place.

I've been driving a lot the last couple of days -- having spent Sunday delivering meals to the sick and needy, which meant navigating the mean streets of East London on my own as they were a person short so I didn't have a navigator. The driving and navigating wasn't so bad -- in fact, I've sometimes thought on occasion a satnav would be more reliable, as there have been so many navigators who struggled with left and right, stuttered when giving directions, or just had to be given a little help map reading. All lovely people, don't get me wrong, just not your first choice of navigator. Unfortunately, what a satnav can't do is entertain you, help you bag up the meals, or drop the meals off at the door while you turn the car round. Instead I had to find somewhere to park (rather than just beaching the car like a whale, as I normally do), hide the valuables, then bag up the meals and deliver them and all the rest. It was hard work. I got an email today asking if I could drive again this Sunday because they were a driver short. It is going to have to be at least a month before I'd want to do it again.

You might think after Sunday's driving I wouldn't have wanted to drive to or around London again -- but there was no way on earth I was prepared to see Dune struggle with trains and tubes with her bags. It wasn't easy for the two of us to transport them from the airport to my car when she arrived, and that was with a baggage trolley -- I would have sooner carried the bags on my back like a donkey than I would have made her take the train. I like to look after my friends, and I can know they have arrived safely if I take them myself.

Driving at night when the rounds are quiet and the air is cold, you can turn the stereo up and it almost feels like you're in a movie. When Dune and I were driving home from the airport when I first picked her up we commented on something like it -- a particular song came on and we remarked it felt like the introspective, soul-searching part of the film where the protagonist struggles with a decision they must make. The people you pass in the streets seem like extras, all playing their parts to the best of their ability -- but when you stop at traffic lights, you still lean over and lock the doors.

To be completely honest, I'm in a bit of a strange emotional state at the moment. It would be too hasty to say I am regressing to where I was when I started therapy, but I have to remind myself that I didn't stop therapy because I didn't need it, I stopped because I couldn't rely on my therapist. I dreamed last night I turned up at his house just like I had always done (since that was his office) and although he seemed surprised to see me, he wasn't that surprised, or mad that I had stopped. Just the same, I am noticing myself being quiet and withdrawn when I don't want to be and am sometimes troubled with recurring thoughts.

In other news, I have my first formal interview with the RAF booked in. I was avoiding their calls for ages -- since I had to fill in yet another application form and was having doubts if I was doing the right thing -- but I reminded myself this is something I have to do, or else always be wondering.