Hard Conversations

It's the second day of the year and already I've managed to gain a regret. I had an uncomfortable conversation this morning.

Words were exchanged. And no matter how much I tried to lighten mine, they landed quite badly. My first instinct was to wish I hadn't spoken at all. 

I've done nothing wrong, says a quiet voice. I communicated how I felt, the best I knew how. I can no longer put blame on the listener, the delivery or my thoughts for existing at all. 

My cowardice is my own. Tip-toeing around the truth, swallowing my feelings won't make them go away. The truth must be spoken no matter the taste. I'll take being understood over a false sense of piece (*peace, this was an actual typo and I'll take it as a sign, how I can't even spell it) 

Conclusion : My main worry was that I've possibly ruined/stained the new year, which confirms that I believe conflict is "messy" and appearances matter to me more than actual peace. 

I'm nervous and afraid; it goes against my very sense of self. That's how I know I should do it more often. Have awkward, imperfect conversations. Use my words, all my words, no matter how ugly. 

Mini-update: There was no solid conclusion wrapped in a pretty bow, but I feel better known than I was yesterday. 

May my truth always take the exit route. I just pray it still knows the way.