As if nothing had happened? Maybe.
The scars already fully healed on my right arm and back were more than enough and unforgettable proof of what had happened, but I was not willing to let that affect me. Now things were different. I was different; it didn’t take long to notice that I had changed. I left the house more often, even if sometimes it was only to take walks around the area, and I talked more with people. I stopped going to appointments with Larry, after telling him I wanted to try postponing my treatment for a while. I didn’t think I needed therapy. I had no nightmares, nor did I sleep poorly.
It was as if the old Han, the person who had once been coordinator of the entertainment and variety supplement at a Minneapolis newspaper, had returned to stay.
I felt strong in Wyoming
