Dear Diary,

My best friend nearly died last year.

I think i've mentioned this a few times.

It was traumatic to me. It was traumatic to my family. It was traumatic to his family. It was traumatic to his friends, to our friends. It was traumatic to the people he worked with. It was traumatic for people who knew him from the gym.

When he got better. It sparked a belief inside me. A growing acceptance that there could be a higher power. That either it was absurdly unlikely and lucky in the most literal sense of the word, that he lived. Or some kind of faith or prayer did something.

My best friend is back in the world. My best friend and I went to a burger joint and saw the very cool yugioh film.

What happened wasn'/t normal and it feels so wrong that everything went back to normal. Don't get me wrong. It's the thing I would want the most for his family and him, namely that after what happened he got his life back, he has his memories and he can walk and laugh and scream and joke and he will be signed off sickness leave and back to his job soon.

Normal was the one thing I wasn't expecting. Normal was the best outcome. IT really was the best outcome after what happened.

But I have a resounding feeling of several different things. One being that something has got to give when we have been so fortunate with him. Another thing is that something feels deeply unresolved.

I feel like something in me changed and broke after what happened. I'm glad he's back, but I'm not fully sure what the after effects are yet. Inside me and with the people who knew him. You can't be so close to death and 6 months after go to a burger joint and not pay the bill (I covered it expecting him to pay his half -funny story...) like the latter was the most normal thing in the world.

I prepared my mind for grief and what I got was gravy. Gravy from that burger joint. They give you a little float to dip burgers in, it really is quite nice.