Decline: (v) to deny consent to

There’s a reason it’s popular.

It is the easiest word in the English language to say.

“No.”

It also fits in well. Since the universe is negatively charged, it seems natural to be prepared to match it with an attitude.

Why should I be open-minded?

Why should I agree to something, knowing that as soon as I do, it will become much more complicated than how it was originally explained to me?

“No” is powerful.

“I decline,” he said. (That even sounds kind of regal.)

But every “no” comes with a shadow—a murky, cloudy covering unleashed by a breathy “what if.”

What if I hadn’t said no?

What if I hadn’t declined?

Would it have been good?

Would I have enjoyed myself?

Would the universe seem more universal?

Would peace be more peaceful?

Would “happy” have an extra p?

I don’t know.

No—I don’t know.

For you see, “no” will never lose its appeal.

It always makes us feel like we’re in charge—and nobody can tell us what to do.

But it also makes us wonder, as we walk away:

What in the hell did I miss?