The university was loud.
Not in the usual way—with students laughing, professors talking, footsteps echoing through crowded hallways.
No. It was a different kind of loud now.
Papers shuffled frantically. Keyboards clicked like racing clocks. Coffee cups clinked against tiled floors. Everyone was either exhausted or pretending not to be.
Finals Week.
Ellie sat in the back corner of the study lounge, eyes on her notes but mind elsewhere. Her highlighter rested in her hand like it had forgotten its purpose. The words on the page swam, then blurred, then faded completely.
She blinked hard.
She hadn't heard from Ady in six days.
No "good morning." No late-night "sleep well." No "you got this."
Nothing.
She didn't even know what he was studying, or where he was, or how he was holding up.
And the silence?
It was starting to drown her.
Group Study, Solo Thoughts
"Ellie, anong sagot mo sa number 4?" Ken's voice snapped her back to the present.
She looked up. "Huh?"
Ken showed her his paper. "Yung sa marketing case study. Sagot mo?"
"Uh… sorry. I spaced out."
Ken smiled gently. "You've been spacing out all week."
Ashley, across the table, looked up from her laptop. "Want coffee?"
Ellie shook her head. "No. I'm okay."
Liar.
She wasn't okay.
She was tired. Not the sleepy kind. The heavy, aching kind.
The kind that crept in at 2AM when she checked her phone and still saw nothing.
The Routine That Disappeared
For months, they had a rhythm. Ellie would message first in the morning; Ady would call at night. They'd share playlists, random thoughts, ugly memes, selfies taken from terrible angles. Even when life got hard, they found each other in it.
Now?
Days went by without a word.
She didn't even know if he still thought about her.
And maybe that was the part that hurt the most.
Overthinking: A Full-Time Job
She tried to study.
She really did.
But every question led to another that wasn't in the reviewer:
What if he got bored?
What if he met someone else?
What if I'm just a distraction now?
What if he realized I'm not worth the effort anymore?
She hated that her mind did this.
She hated that she missed him so much and couldn't even say it out loud.
Because what was she supposed to say?
"Hey, I know you're busy saving your future, but can you love me louder again?"
It sounded selfish. It was selfish.
And yet, she couldn't help it.
Midnight Breakdown
That night, after hours of reading the same paragraph over and over, Ellie closed her laptop.
Her room was silent.
Her phone screen was still blank.
She curled up on her bed, hugging her pillow like it could answer the questions she couldn't ask.
She opened their chat, stared at the empty space where his name sat, and typed:
I miss you.
She stared at it. Then backspaced.
Typed again:
Why does it feel like I'm losing you?
Backspace. Delete.
She finally sent:
Good luck sa finals.
No reply.
Ashley Knows Without Asking
The next day, Ashley passed her a chocolate bar and a small note.
"You're doing your best, even if it doesn't feel like it. One more push."
Ellie smiled weakly.
Ashley sat beside her quietly. She didn't ask questions. She didn't bring up Ady.
But her silence said what words couldn't: I'm here, even if he's not.
And somehow, that helped.
A little.
What She Wanted to Say
In the middle of her last exam, while her professor dictated questions and her classmates wrote like their futures depended on it, Ellie thought about what she really wanted to tell Ady.
"I know you're tired. I know life is hard right now. But I miss you. I need you to remind me we're still in this together. Because I'm scared. And I hate being scared alone."
She wouldn't say it, of course.
She didn't want to be the dramatic girl who couldn't survive a few weeks without constant reassurance.
But inside, she was crumbling.
Inside, every silent day felt like another piece of them was fading.
Her Breaking Point
It was the night after her last exam.
She should've been relieved. Free. Celebrating.
But all she felt was empty.
Her friends were out eating. She stayed behind, said she was tired.
She was. Just not the kind they understood.
Ellie sat on her balcony, knees tucked to her chest, eyes staring at the stars above the dorm roof.
She called him.
No answer.
Called again.
Still nothing.
She whispered to herself, voice cracking:
"I don't even know if we're still... something."
Then, for the first time in weeks, she let herself cry.
Not quietly.
Not silently.
But fully.
For everything she held back.
For everything she didn't say.
For everything they used to be.
Hope in a Whisper
When the tears ran dry, and her chest stopped aching, she looked at her phone one more time.
Still no message.
She opened their old voice notes.
There was one—sent months ago. Ady laughing, teasing her, telling her she was worth more than she believed.
She played it again.
And again.
Until she fell asleep on the floor, his voice still playing softly in the dark.