Every postponed decision is still a decision, and it always gets made in favor of the more comfortable hour.
Conviction that never converts into action decays, and the body files what it learned from the decay: discomfort passes on its own. The terror was genuine, which means the reasoning about righteousness, self-control and the judgment ahead had landed exactly as it should. Then the levers settled it, because the pain of staying inside that conviction outweighed the pain of the life it had just indicted.
Convenience is the word a person reaches for when relief now has outbid change later. Each deferral trains the response: the next warning moves him less, the one after that barely registers, and in time he can sit through the same truth with a steady pulse. The expense is the capacity to be moved at all, spent one comfortable postponement at a time.