The Festering Abscess of the Spiteful Heart

I've been ill for the past week running up to the holidays. On lot's of meds and confounded by the subsequent loosly connected thoughts that come of it.

I've thought a lot about Spite, and the conditions for it to grow in the heart. And most importantly, how not to let it continue to grow, take root, or otherwise take hold. It's hard. Harder than most things after the emptyness left by lost love that I've come across.

A quote: “Spiteful words can hurt your feelings but silence breaks your heart.”

And it's in the silence that I'm left.

I exchanged holiday greetings with family, friends, quite a few of whom I didn't expect to hear from. But the one I sent gifts too, that I would have wanted to hear just a simple greeting or holiday salutation from. Is the one that I got nothing from.

Even coal would have been something. Undeserved as much as I know, but still, a consideration of some kind is above any measure of an ill silence.