I pulled my driver's license out of my wallet and put it in the envelope to send back to DVLA.
It hurt more than I expected. I remember when I passed my test - I was on top of the world. When I was 16, I took a driving test in the US that was just basically just proving that I knew how to operate a vehicle. In the UK, driving tests are Srs Bsns. It lasts about an hour, and is bloody hard to pass. I had been driving for half my life when I came to the UK, but I had to spend a small fortune on driving lessons in order to pass the test. I knew someone who didn't pass until her 8th try.
Somehow I passed on my first. I had taken a trial test a week before and failed badly, so I didn't expect to pass. But I did. I was elated.
I don't like thinking of that me, who was healthy enough to run up the steps at the office where she worked to tell her friends that she had passed. I don't like to think of what's about to happen to her a few years from that moment.
So I won't. I'm on my way to the osteopath, so I'll drop this in the postbox on the way. And then I'm done with that thought.
Remember...it is just the wind. And "that" girl was already broken. Loves and gentle hugs and hope for a good osteo session.
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