Oh, the eternal K-drama struggle. Why do I do this to myself? I should know better, yet here I am, emotionally unprepared and already invested. I should know better by now, but here I am, emotionally unprepared and already invested.
I have been burned before, and I know I will be again, but do I still dive in with reckless abandon? Absolutely.
Will I be basking in the glow of love, or will I be ugly crying into my blanket, questioning all my life choices? It’s always a gamble.
I knew going in that The Trunk was going to be a ride, but wow, did it have me spiraling through every possible emotion.
I knew going in that The Trunk was going to be a ride, but wow, did it have me spiraling through every possible emotion.
Let’s get one thing straight … The Trunk is not the type of drama that ties everything up in a perfect bow. But does it completely destroy your soul and leave you in existential crisis mode? Not quite.
For me, this drama was not just about entertainment. It made me sit with its themes—love, fate, and the emotional baggage (yes, pun intended) that we all carry.
The Ending, Bittersweet And Thought-Provoking
If you are expecting an over-the-top wedding, a grand romantic confession, or fireworks at the end, I hate to disappoint you, but let me stop you right there. The Trunk chooses a different path. It is not about easy resolutions but about something deeper—something that lingers long after the credits roll.
At its core, this drama poses a big question. Can love truly heal all wounds? It does not give a simple yes or no. Instead, it stays true to its core themes, offering an ending that feels earned rather than forced.
Is everything neatly wrapped up? Nope. Not even close. And honestly, that had me sitting there, clutching my pillow like it could somehow give me answers.
And I sat there, questioning my life choices and wondering why I willingly sign up for this emotional rollercoaster every single time.
And honestly, that had me staring at my screen in emotional turmoil, wondering what I just put myself through.
And honestly, that had me staring at my screen in emotional turmoil, wondering what I just put myself through. But did it leave me thinking? Absolutely, and I am still debating it in my head.
Why It’s Not A Simple Happy Or Sad Ending
Korean dramas love playing in the emotional gray area. Unlike Western rom-coms where love either wins or loses, K-dramas tend to reflect real-life struggles. And The Trunk leans heavily into that realism.
One major cultural concept that shapes its ending is jeong (정). This is not just about love. It is about commitment, sacrifice, and an emotional connection that does not fade, even when circumstances say it should.
Western romances often highlight passion and grand gestures, but K-dramas emphasize longing, patience, and endurance—all of which define The Trunk‘s ending.
I remember the first time I truly grasped the concept of jeong. It hit me like a ton of bricks, and suddenly, so many K-drama endings made sense. If you are unfamiliar with it, The Trunk‘s ending might feel frustrating.
But if you understand that love in Korean storytelling is as much about emotional duty as it is about romance, then you will see why The Trunk unfolds the way it does.
How It Compares To Other K-Drama Endings
Another powerful Korean cultural concept at play here is han (한), that ever-present sense of unresolved sorrow mixed with resilience. If you have ever felt emotionally wrecked by a K-drama, you have probably encountered han in action.
This is what makes K-dramas hit so differently. The Trunk is not about closing every door. It is about learning to live with what remains open.
This is what makes K-dramas hit so differently. The Trunk is not about closing every door. It is about learning to live with what remains open.
If you have seen My Mister, then you already know how K-dramas have this magical ability to both crush your soul and whisper, ‘It’s fine, you’ll heal … eventually’. The Trunk does something similar. It does not scream finality but instead lingers in your mind, making you reflect long after the credits roll.
Think of Stranger (Forest of Secrets)—an ending that is satisfying, yet restrained. If you are someone who appreciates a well-earned, realistic conclusion instead of a predictable love fest, The Trunk is exactly your kind of drama.
If you need a clear-cut resolution with no room for interpretation, I totally get it—because I have been there before, wanting something solid but left feeling conflicted. I have stared at my screen in disbelief, wondering what just happened.
But if you love layered storytelling that makes you feel something, then this will stay with you long after you finish watching.
Final Verdict: Will You Be Crying Or Smiling?
So, will The Trunk have you sobbing into your pillow or sitting in deep contemplation with a soft smile? Honestly … probably both.
This drama does not take the easy road, but it stays true to its characters and themes. It delivers an emotional, layered, and thought-provoking conclusion that does not just end, but resonates.
If you love dramas that hit you right in the feels and make you think about life long after the credits roll, then this is absolutely worth watching.
If you love dramas that hit you right in the feels and make you think about life long after the credits roll, then this is absolutely worth watching. But if you were expecting a light and fluffy romance, you might want to adjust your expectations before diving in.
Either way … would I put myself through this again? Absolutely. Would I be any more emotionally prepared the second time around? Not a chance. Do I regret my emotional instability afterward? Maybe. It was a journey worth taking, and I would do it all over again.
I am curious—did The Trunk‘s ending satisfy you, or did you find yourself wishing for a more conventional resolution like I sometimes do?
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