Under the covers, the two choices keep growing
Holding on to a proposal you must answer by tomorrow morning, you lie under the covers, taking turns imagining the worst that could happen with either choice.
Scenes
- Under the covers, the two choices keep growing — You have to answer by tomorrow morning, but the longer you lie there, the bigger both choices feel—as if you can’t afford to lose either one.
- Afraid a wrong choice would leave no way back — Your hand stops—not because choosing an answer is hard, but because you fear regretting it afterward and having no way back.
- You open and close the reply window — At 11:40 p.m., under the covers, you open and close the reply window, taking turns writing down the losses each choice could bring.
- At night, the way back is harder to see — Before bed, it’s easy to imagine the outcome as bigger than it is. So compare what you might lose and whether you can undo it before thinking about what you might gain.
- Write down just two things — On paper, write one line for each choice: ‘What will I lose?’ and ‘Can I change it again?’ You can choose in the morning.
- Choosing later doesn’t mean you chose wrong — It’s okay if you don’t reach a conclusion today. What remains is the standard of choosing after considering the cost you can bear and the way back.
Stories by Haewol
- Haewol
- Even after the funeral, I’m still unsure whether to leave the group or stay.
- Sitting in the parked car, I try not to call Mom first.
- In the hospital waiting room, she imagines welcoming new customers.
- Even while shopping, I can't bring myself to say it.
- By the rainy window, I’m unsure whether we should manage our money together.
- Even while folding laundry, I weigh whether to go into business with someone or go it alone.
- When I’m alone in my room, I wonder if it’s okay to rest today.
- I spent the whole afternoon staring at the guarantee form.