Self-control

I feel hurt and indignant, and my first instinct is to hurt back. I want to get angry, I want to say things that will bite as deep into your pain as you've bitten into mine. I feel it simmering and boiling as I hold my words back, focus my hands on the dishes, make myself be gentle, force my mouth to be soft. Some things slip out, my control is not perfect. But I can be happy that they are quietly said, not meant to hurt. I only ask that you don't test it. Don't push me. Don't keep talking. Leave me be to let go of the anger you've sown. I know it's my fault it had a chance to sprout in my breast, but I need some peace to uproot it, I can't do it with you shouting at me. I need to finish so that I can escape to my room and give these feelings to my Savior. For I would far, far rather give them to Him, to His understanding, let them be swallowed in His atonement, then allow them to widen the hurt between us.