They say a bullseye is the black circle at the center of a target.
When someone hits a sore spot I was only half aware of, I usually get irritated. The feeling is not unlike "I was just about to"—it has not changed much since I was a child. I have only stopped saying it out loud. When things go well, I can even get to "Ah, sorry." Everyone grows up, more or less.
I cannot always tell where that prickly feeling comes from. I end up fighting without knowing why I am angry. I say, "No, that's not what I mean," but I do not really know what I mean either. With a face that looks constructive, I line up arguments that miss the mark.
When the blood finally drains from my head, I realize it was probably a bullseye after all. This time I start with "At least watch your tone," or something like it. I feel awkward. I deliberately keep going a fight that has already finished its job.
I make someone who could have stayed quiet take on my emotional outlet as well. I lean on them for everything.
I think we had a fight like that yesterday too.