“I was so fucking far up my own ass, I didn’t see how my so-called boyfriend was fucking wilting away right before my very eyes with each passing day. Or hell, maybe I did see it, but didn’t think it was serious enough to do anything about it.” I shake my head, disgusted with myself. “I knew he was sad, but I didn’t think—I didn’t know—”

A hand brushes my shoulder.

I turn my head to find Waylon watching me with a pained expression, hazel eyes swimming with unshed tears. If I didn’t know some of what he struggles with, I’d think he was simply pitying me. But I do know. And I know what he’s thinking.

I know how close this hits to home.

“I took a course my freshman year,” I find myself saying through the lump in my throat. “Psychology of Trauma. It was an upper-level elective I had to all but beg my advisor to get me into.”

I abruptly jump to a stand and start pacing, giving Waylon no choice but to drop his hand.

“There’s this thing we talked about called repetition compulsion. Basically, it’s the brain’s way of processing what happened and trying to figure out how to fix it. People who’ve experienced a trauma will often find themselves unconsciously seeking out similar situations as a way to”—I twist my fingers in a little circle—“relive what happened.

“Nightmares, for instance,” I go on. “No one actually wants to relive what happened to them, but like any organ that’s been damaged, the brain wants to find a way to heal. Because that’s exactly what trauma is: a brain injury. There’s like actual neuroscience and whatnot behind it”—I wave him off—“but that’s neither here nor there right now. The point is...the brain wants to fix what’s been broken.” I give him a considering look. “Figure out where it all went wrong, even if it’s only in our dreams.”

Waylon’s mouth parts as if he wants to say something, before closing to form a hard line.

“But sometimes...” I shake my head lightly. “Sometimes that compulsion is strong enough to influence our behavior when we’re awake. Often without us even realizing what’s going on. It’s why abuse victims are at a much higher risk of being re-victimized when compared to individuals who’ve never been abused. Why someone who’s been raped might throw themselves into potentially dangerous situations, when they know just how real the stakes are because they’ve lived it already. It becomes this sort of...obsession to take control back. Figure out where it all went wrong and flip the script. Change the ending.”