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I'm parked outside his apartment at 1 AM. We broke up four days ago. I just need to see if his lights are on. I won't knock. I'll just sit here. That's what I tell myself every time. He's not even good for me. I know exactly who he is. I know what happens next. We fight. I cry. He says the right things. I feel it — that flood of relief — and I stay another three months. I've done this with three different men. Same apartment. Different addresses. My friends stopped asking. My sister said "you always do this." I smiled and changed the subject because I knew she was right and I had no explanation. I thought I was just bad at choosing men. Weak. Addicted to drama. I wasn't. My nervous system learned — early, young, before I could name it — that the relief after conflict was the closest thing to safety. Not love. Relief. Now it hunts for that feeling the way a body hunts for air. I found a quiz at 2 AM. Parked, like this. Almost didn't take it. Three minutes. It showed me exactly what my nervous system had been chasing — and why nothing I'd tried had stopped it. If you're sitting somewhere you know you shouldn't be, unable to leave — your body isn't broken. It's following a very old map. Liven can show you what's on it. Link is below. 💙