Druncle

People tell me - often after a fight has occurred - that I should just say what I'm thinking and not sit on it. I agree there are circumstances in which I need to be better about that; if you are consistently doing something that drives me bananas, it's my responsibility to bring it up.

But there's another circumstance, too, and this is where it becomes a grey area: the moment when acknowledging something makes it more real. Sometimes I keep feelings to myself not because I think secrets are fun or I like drama or I'm afraid of confrontation, but because I think the thing will be easier to work through if it's just me in the arena. Another person's focus can be helpful, or it can simply add more weight to something that didn't need to be that important.

When I've been accused of keeping secrets, that's usually what has happened. I didn't say something at the first sign of whatever-it-was because it wasn't that important at the time, and I'm inclined to sit back and see how things play out rather than make a big deal about them immediately. And some things do get better or disappear, and then I've avoided unnecessary drama by not saying anything. But some things don't, so by the time they reach a point where I've accepted a need to address them, I get the "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" response, and I can never adequately explain just why.

I'm not going to default to bringing up every little thought that passes through my head; my head is loud some days. The voice in the back of my mind is the drunken uncle at the family reunion. Sometimes he's right, and sometimes he's just spewing crazy talk, and life is usually easier after he passes out by the pool.