You'd rather die on the hill than admit there wasn't one. "I'm sorry" costs you more than the mistake ever did.
Being wrong feels like being unmade. So you don't do it — not out loud, not where anyone can see. You keep arguing past the point you privately realized they were right, because backing down now would mean admitting you were wrong THEN, and that math never works out for you. You've turned "I might be mistaken" into a phrase your mouth can't physically form. The thing is, everyone already knows when you've lost; you're the only one still pretending the hill is worth it. The standoff isn't protecting your image — it's the most visible crack in it.
Get your read — free on iPhoneyou stopped believing you were right three exchanges ago. you're still arguing because the apology costs more than being wrong ever could.