The Unsaid

Have you ever really really wanted to say something to some one? You know the comment--the type that burns in your throat as you swallow it down. You swallow it anyway knowing that saying it would bring you down to their level and just all around bring on bad consequences.

Including the guilt you would feel for being petty and (as already stated) sinking down to their level.

But even knowing that you chose the high road, the unsaid sticks in your head for a while. Time goes by, and it gets tucked into the back of your memory, and doesn't irritate anymore. And then, something brings it back to the forefront. And it irritates all over again. And you think of other things that could have been/could be said (depending on the situation). And those irritate you, because you still choose not to say them. Partly for the reasons above, and partly because the initial incident has already come and gone, and saying anything now would be akin to being the person who doesn't get the joke until three days after it was told. In other words, you'll look quite ridiculous.

So what do you do? You swallow the burning comment once again, along with all it's new fiery friends, and hope they get tucked away quickly. The frustrating thing is, when another event triggers the fire-eating trick, it can bring all the other things you wish you had said in all the other unsaid situations. And suddenly, instead of swallowing a lit match, you're swallowing a great flaming, pitch-soaked torch.

Anyways, I was just thinking. And now I'm going to get a nice big glass of water.