Let’s Hear it for the Silent Treatment!!
Of course, it is juvenile and immature. Not talking to someone is no way to behave.
Is it?
Never go to bed angry?
Who said that? Clearly, they have never argued with me or anyone to whom I have ever disagreed. There would be no sleeping if we were to hash it out before going to bed. No, thank you.
I would consider my heated form of communication passionate, however, my husband would call it an ugly display of rage. Either way, when I finally do lose my temper, it can be verbally explosive. Please do not confuse this with being abusive. 
I have a double bladed tongue that mercilessly jabs back in quick concessions when provoked. Depending on how long I have been holding my tongue and how deep my teeth have had to sink in determines how relevant, ancient, and fair the blows are once I have unleashed my thoughts through words. It isn’t pretty and contrary to the belief of those in the path of my wrath, I am not proud of myself nor do I gain any satisfaction in winning an argument in this way. Once the dust settles, there is no way around it, I have said hurtful things to someone I love and care about. It does not matter if what I have said is true. The manner in which I have expressed these thoughts is inexcusable and unnecessary. What is said can never be taken back and is not easily forgiven.
Can your rage sometimes lead to a verbal backlash? If so, then you know what I am talking about. It is actually better to go to bed angry than to voice the words roiling in your head. Stepping back and taking a breath allows you time to calmly check your anger and frustration into a reasonable, respectful argument. This approach is better for everyone. It has taken many years, countless apologies, and some lost relationships for me to learn this lesson.
Do not knock the silent treatment. It has its own purpose, within reason. However, not talking to someone is the easy part. Breaking the silence once the treatment has been doled out, is the pride swallowing, ego crushing challenge. This is where I fail. When I am giving my husband the cold shoulder and I drag it out, everything begins to break down. We stop eating at the table and start sleeping separately. There is no disagreement from me when he takes a pillow and blanket to the couch to watch the game nor does he stop me from occupying the spare room during this award times. We actually convince ourselves that the kids are none the wiser when we blame the separate sleeping on daddy’s snoring.
When you wear your stubborn streaks like a coat of armor, don’t expect it to be comfortable.
When we are no longer sharing a table or bed our communication is severed and our marriage is ultimately in trouble.
Ah, the apology without actually saying I’m sorry. Because it’s not really an apology, it’s a declaration of not being mad anymore. It doesn’t even mean that I am ready to talk about ‘it.’ Only willing to start from here.
I do this by pulling two wine glasses out of the cupboard and leaving them out with a bottle of Cabernet. I am not presumptuous enough to pour, for it is very likely that my husband is angry with me and not ready to sit and chat. So, it is up to him to fill the glasses and join me in a conversation. Then we can make up.