I can't sleep and my brain is reaching into strange corners
There is power in being a wronged party. It is especially potent when the person who does you harm feels badly about it-the apology, maybe even tears-it makes the pain that much more delicious. The sinking heart leaps to high moral ground like a ram on a mountantop. Anger is mitigated by that secret 'I'm right and you're wrong' tapdance. Righteous indignation is seductive. There are people who thrive on it, who seek it out. They view every incident of offense as an attack. Usually they aren't attacks: in human interaction people are bound to crash into each other once in a while. I can't imagine how exhausting it must be to constantly be going through the sting-simmer-angry confrontation cycle over and over. It's bad enough when it's real. I don't crave the ecstasy of rib-ripping pain caused by another person. I think that's what the religions who teach forgiveness are talking about. If you abuse the power of personal victimhood you lose it. I prefer to pick my battles.