Head Over Heels episode 3 review: The polite cruelty of the living

Head Over Heels keeps finding new ways to remind us that the real horror doesn’t wear a mask or crawl out from the shadows. It doesn’t creak in the hallways or whisper in the dark. It sits at funeral tables, wears polite smiles, and stirs old family grudges like a spoon scraping the bottom of an empty pot.

"I'd rather take down a ghost. People are much worse."

With that single line, Seong-ah slices straight through the pretense that binds society together. She names what many of us fear to admit: that the true monsters are the living, the ones who claim to love us but turn on each other over the pettiest reasons.

In this world, ghosts might scream and wail in the night, but humans? They carry their cruelty into broad daylight, dressed in black suits and forced condolences. Head Over Heels tells ghost stories while also exposing the quiet terrors woven into our everyday lives.

A blanket after a long day

Watching Head Over Heels feels like wrapping yourself in a blanket after a long, exhausting day when the weight of everything finally starts to lift. Each episode feels like someone gently pulling you back to yourself, encouraging you to take a deep breath and let go of whatever sharp edges you’ve been carrying.

Head Over Heels reminds us that stories can heal, even when they explore death and curses. There’s a warmth underneath all the chills, a softness hiding inside every exorcism and ritual. The show reveals that comfort goes beyond easy laughs, finding its true shape in moments when you feel seen, even in your most haunted places.

You feel somehow cleaner by the time the credits have rolled, as though your ghosts had also left, and you stayed, with a peaceful sense of tranquility.

A gentle kind of human

There’s something so beautifully human in Head Over Heels, something that feels like a soft pulse beneath all the supernatural noise. It’s not the small-minded, harsh individual you observe battling over funeral remnants or holding onto past grievances as if they were treasured possessions. It’s the gentle kind, namely the one that smiles even in pain, the one that forgives without a request, the one that holds onto hope for a second chance even when others have walked away.

This episode cements that feeling completely. Watching Seong-ah navigate this messy intersection of the living and the dead feels like sitting beside a friend who understands every bruise on your heart. You don’t need to explain yourself because the show already knows what you’re carrying.

Head Over Heels holds that space for its audience, a space where humanity’s flaws are laid bare but never mocked, always embraced with tenderness.

The urge to hug a drama

I already loved Head Over Heels from the very first episode, but episode 3 made me want to hug it and keep it safe forever, like a small treasure you tuck into a secret pocket. The urge to protect this drama feels almost instinctual, as if it were a friend you don’t want the world to hurt.

It’s the kind of series that makes you want to share it with someone you love, then sit beside them and watch their face light up. It makes you dream of rainy afternoons spent under a blanket, rewatching favorite scenes just to hear a line delivered in that perfect, offbeat cadence again.

There are so many dramas that come and go, but Head Over Heels feels different. It feels like it could become a part of your personal ritual, something to reach for whenever life feels too heavy to bear alone.

Heavy ghosts, tender light

The ghosts in this episode of Head Over Heels are heavy in ways that surprise you. The baby ghost, with its silent cries and impossible grief, holds up a mirror to all the small losses we carry but never name. The ghost of suicide, weighed down by despair and shame, reminds us that some wounds never stop echoing, no matter how many years pass.

Yet, when that ghost of suicide finally leaves, there’s a light so tender it almost feels fragile. In that final gesture, when Ji-won holds Seong-ah’s hand, we see a full arc of sorrow turning toward something close to peace. It’s a moment that feels more real than any exorcism or ritual, because it is about choosing connection, even at the edge of oblivion.

It’s like he’s saying he wants to protect her (and be protected by her), even while he insists on pushing her away. And in that contradiction, Head Over Heels captures the messiness of what it means to be human, haunted not just by spirits but by the ache of wanting to be loved and the fear of losing it.

Head Over Heels and its heartwarming magic

At the end of the episode, you find yourself sitting there with a silly, almost embarrassed smile on your face, just like Seong-ah after an unexpected moment of kindness. You don’t even realize it’s happening until the credits start to roll, and you catch yourself thinking, “Maybe today wasn’t so bad after all.”

That’s the real magic of Head Over Heels. It doesn’t promise to fix you or to make all the ghosts disappear. Instead, it offers a gentle hand, a warm presence in the room, a story that feels like a friend.

Because what is the world without stories? Good stories give us a reason to keep going, to keep smiling, to keep hoping even when the days are long and heavy.

Head Over Heels is special. It’s the kind of drama that feels heart warming.

Rating with a (slight) touch of flair: Five out of five handshakes, with care, affection, and all the warmth you can imagine.