There are always many reasons for choice, but in the end there is only one left.
The space before the answer
아직 is not urgency. It is the quiet moment where nothing has been finalized, and yet nothing has disappeared. In a relationship, especially at Week 4, this space becomes noticeable. The couple has shared enough time to feel direction, but not enough to name it. Words pause here. Actions slow down. What remains is a shared awareness that something is forming, even if neither side says it out loud.
When silence becomes a choice
For him, 아직 does not mean avoidance. It reflects restraint. The decision has not been made public, but it is already present internally. The relationship exists in a soft suspension, where gestures carry more weight than statements. This silence is not empty; it is carefully held. In this moment, choosing nothing is still choosing to stay close to the possibility.
Holding what is not finished
아직 allows the relationship to breathe. It keeps the future from collapsing into certainty too soon. In Week 4, this unfinished state protects both people from rushing into clarity they are not ready to sustain. The word does not resolve anything, but it keeps the connection open, wide enough for change, narrow enough to feel intentional.
At the end of this pause, meaning does not stay only in language. It quietly leans toward a form it may one day take, connected to the earlier trace of this story at