I was thinking about it all day. I used to curse being immortal. I did. It was supposed to be this wonderful thing, but all I saw it as was an eternity of saying goodbye to most of the things I loved. Which...I still have to face, and I am not pleased about it. But were I not as I am, that would have been my end. That thing I became. A thirty-seven year old vegetable. I can imagine it, if I'd never moved here. They had cared for me in Melk, and then, when I passed, alone they would have buried me in their basement with all the other priests. Thirty-seven. That is all I was meant to have. It's a sobering thing to think about. And I do mean that literally. I haven't even had so much as a craving for my friend the bottle since I got out of that box. And, circumstances being what they are, I believe that to be a miracle. One of many.
I'm trying to say I'm grateful, but Abby and Spectre keep distracting me by talking about medical things. The news is that I'm fine. Things are still fixing themselves, but I will be fine. Tomorrow I am going to Aly and David's parent's house to see the family there, and I am looking forward to it a great deal. I love them.
And I saw Dietrich today. We talked. And I didn't kill him. So...there's that.