I started watching this series maybe
around late November last year. However, midway through it, I decided to stop. I can’t exactly say how long I took a break, but it wasn’t until last Christmas Eve that I resumed watching the next three episodes… only to stop again. Weirdly enough, I never felt like it had been ages whenever I picked it up again from where I had left off. However, that doesn’t mean I jumped back into it right away. Sometimes, I had to rewatch the whole thing from the beginning just to take it in and recall what was happening in the current episode.
With One Spring Night, had an inner conflict with my conscience. I wasn’t sure if I should push through because I didn’t have the energy to finish it. Watching it felt exhausting, almost as if I were constantly out of breath—the scenes were dragging, the pacing often prompted deep, tedious sighs, and I felt weirdly dispirited after every episode. This kept happening to the point where I almost dropped it… many times. But I didn’t. I resumed watching it sometime around the first week of February, and three days ago, I finally reached the last episode. When I finished it, I felt heavy-hearted. Even though it ended on a vaguely happy note, my mind lingered on the bittersweet moments.
I was...FRUSTRATED.
I can still recall how I kept muttering curses under my breath because I didn’t want to endure that scene any longer. The tension between the two leads as they faced each other on the street—I just couldn’t handle it. I was literally on the edge of my seat, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of the emotional intensity.
In that very scene, I could feel their vulnerability. Their eyes were speaking volumes. It was painful to watch their courage being bottled up at a moment when they should have dismissed the world and just run to meet halfway. That night, they stood on the same street but seemed to exist in entirely different spheres.
And that phone call? It was the only fragile line of intersection between those spheres.
Easier said than done. I know that thought crossed their minds as well. When Ji-Ho was about to take a leap of faith, Jeong-In's firm "Don't cross the line" stopped him mid-air. Jeong-In wanted that moment too—their moment—but crossing the line together with Ji-Ho might lead them nowhere, and she was scared of stepping into the unknown. Perhaps she wanted some assurance in their uncertainty. She probably didn’t want to lose herself along the way or drag him down, especially since their emotions had already been spiraling out of control.
After watching One Spring Night, it dawned on me that I’m still such a sucker for melodrama. Consuming melodrama is just another way of saying you have the patience to sit through its slow-burn build and seemingly unimportant segments. Because of this, I’ve developed an unusual tendency to be laid-back—perhaps this explains why I take longer than usual to finish a show. Maybe I subconsciously mimic its pacing? Or maybe I don’t.
At first, I felt guilty—big time. As I confessed, I had a lot of interruptions. I watched One Spring Night, then stopped, resumed, paused, and continued; this was my pattern. This isn’t exactly healthy for someone who usually binge-watches, but these instances don’t happen to me very often. So, I decided to embrace it: One Spring Night gave me the assurance to just keep my cool. This show allowed me to see the experience of watching it not as an opportunity to binge but as a chance to take it at a leisurely pace. I didn’t feel pressured to keep watching because I had to; instead, I saw it as something I could enjoy whenever I was ready to absorb it—and that felt more like me.
Speaking of me, I personally enjoyed the show's soundtrack album. At random moments, I’ll catch myself humming “We could still be happy” without even realizing it. I also love how the songs evoke a feeling of springtime when you listen to them. Each track was often played during moments of solitude, beautifully capturing the characters' silence and considered thoughts, while also highlighting their emotions. The soundtrack has a cozy vibe—perfect for a coffee shop setting. However, one thing puzzles me: why does it only feature English songs?
(If you’re interested, go check out the soundtrack! Pair it with a cup of coffee or hot tea, and you’ll find it makes an already intimate atmosphere even cozier with its springtime feels.)
Why Spring?
Of all the seasons, why does it have to be spring? As soon as I learned the title of the series, it rang a bell. The obvious interpretation aside, I became more interested in the production's choice of this specific title and the symbolic meanings it carries.
In literature, spring is featured more frequently than the other three temperate seasons. Its brevity makes it stand out, which explains why it is so poetically and symbolically pronounced. Spring evokes feelings of distant memories, regretful longing, and a pensive atmosphere. At the same time, it carries familiar symbolism: the beginning of a new life for someone emerging from the harsh cold of winter.
In One Spring Night, much of the filming was reportedly done on spring nights, and in the story itself, spring is what brings the leads together. Their first encounter—in the pharmacy—could even be seen as a spring morning, marking the start of their journey.
From the very beginning, the story was grounded in meaningful conceptions.
In terms of symbolism, spring clearly represented a period of transition for almost all the characters, marking their journey toward renewal. The story began with each character carrying personal dilemmas that, as the plot progressed, challenged their beliefs and tested their hopes. However, these dilemmas were eventually confronted, strengthening their resolve and gently guiding them toward the tender beginning of a new chapter in their lives.
