[ It felt strange to say it outright like that, after years of incremental denials, then resigned acceptance, then joyful but silent acceptance. And he realizes that if he ever sees Hannibal again, he's going to have to say it to that smug, infuriating face.

He doesn't exactly smile, but everything in his body language has relaxed. He looks around his cabin as he thinks about just 'how he is feeling'. He scritches Winston behind the ears, and the dog's tail thumps against the couch. ]

I feel like things make more sense, now. There's 'losing myself', and then there's 'not wanting to acknowledge what I already am'. I was doing the latter.