Most people think that love is all about thrills, laughter, and happy moments. You think that a daily “good morning” text, watching movies together online even in an LDR, or a short call before bed is enough. I also didn't immediately understand that there is a time in a relationship when you have to learn to wait, understand, and keep quiet, not because you don't love him anymore, but because you want to see him fulfill his dreams.
I'm Jek. A simple man who truly loves. I'm happy in my relationship with my girlfriend. It's not perfect, but I can feel the depth of our bond. We're both cheerful, we have the same taste in food, and we love to laugh at simple things. Before, we used to get into trouble every day. Even though we live in different places, I feel like she's always there. But now, a different kind of silence has enveloped us.
A scene I will never forget:
The other night, it was raining. The kind that was cold and chilling. I was lying in bed, the light on but I didn't even feel like scrolling through my phone. I looked at our last chat — “I'm just reviewing, love. Miss you.” — which he sent three days ago. I opened the messenger, staring at his name. I really wanted to message him. I wanted to say, “Love, I'm tired. I miss you so much.” But I didn't.
I chose to remain silent.
Not because I don't care, but because I don't want to bother him. I know how difficult review season is for him. He has repeatedly said that this is his dream — to pass the board exam. So as his partner, it is my responsibility to support, not add to the burden.
But I must admit, there are nights when I feel really sad. There are questions that whisper in my mind:
“Does he still love me?”
“Does he still think about me with all the studying he does?”
"How long will I have to wait for this silence?"
But despite all the questions, I stayed.
Whenever I think of him being tired from studying, I also think that maybe I'm the only quiet person he can lean on. The one he knows he won't be judged, the one he won't be reminded of "you don't have time," but the kind of love that doesn't seek attention, but gives space.
When I see our old photos — our selfies while eating street food, or our last walk in Luneta — I cry sometimes, not because of sadness, but because I'm proud. I'm proud of him. I'm proud of myself that even though it's hard, I can wait. Because what I'm waiting for is not just him. I'm also waiting for the version of him that dreams will come true. And I know that when he's there, he'll come back to me — more whole, happier.
For those like me who are quietly waiting:
Waiting doesn't diminish your character. Not showing affection every day doesn't diminish your love. Sometimes, the most intense kind of love is the one you can step away from for a moment, not to lose it, but to let it fly — and believe me, it will come back to you when you're ready to succeed together.
Even though I'm not starring in his story right now, that's okay. Because I know the day will come, we'll be together in a new scene — no longer crying in the quiet night, but laughing while holding hands, proud of where patience, understanding, and love have taken us.
So while he's not here, while he's busy reaching for his star, I'm just here — quiet, steadfast, and loving.
