Sometimes I feel the urge to say something snide, cutting, or otherwise intentionally hurtful to someone I love. It may come in response to some perceived slight or annoyance, or in shock and retaliation for something hurtful they just said. The words rise up my throat in a peristalsis of emotion, and it takes an act of will to delay their expulsion.

After I buy myself some time like this, I reframe my situation this way: What if I saw the words now trying to pry open my jaw as instead glowing in front of me, one of several choices I could make in a video game’s conversational interface?

I immediately know that, in a game, I’d gleefully choose the cued-up acerbic utterance if I wanted to start a fight, or if I decided that my character didn’t like or respect the other character. Or maybe I was just screwing around, exploring how much I could break the game through awful choices, with the intent to reload a save file afterwards.

Invariably, none of these motivations apply to my real-life situation, and the “characters” involved. So, clearly, I shouldn’t choose this option. So what are the other choices? There’s always at least two or three to pick from, right? Still in this frame, I find it easier to read—that is, mentally compose—at least a couple of cooler-headed alternative replies, there in my imaginary conversational UI. (Including, often, the ever-popular [Say nothing].) And I choose one of those instead, and life goes on—with no yearning, moments later, for a Quick Load button.