That market was ridiculously profitable, and my account soared to 780,000 U. The numbers jumped on the screen, and my heart raced along with them. At that moment, one sentence occupied my mind: "Just one more push, and I'll break a million."
Rationality had actually reminded me: it's enough. It's time to take some off the table. But greed was louder—"You've come this far, how can you not take a gamble?"
In the end, before I could even make a move, the market moved first.
A pullback directly crashed my account to 210,000 U.
No buffer, no time to think,
it felt like being kicked off a high place.
Those few days, I pretended to be nonchalant during the day,
still eating and laughing;
but at night,
I stared at the K-line until dawn.
What kept replaying in my mind was,
only one sentence:
"If only I had taken profits earlier."
But the market doesn't give you an "if only."
Paper profits never leave,
it never gives you a chance to turn back.
Only later did I truly understand,
the hardest operation in the crypto world,
is not buying at the bottom,
nor selling at the top,
but—when everything is going smoothly, hitting the pause button.
