It had been two months.
Two months of soft mornings, quiet evenings, and shared meals. Two months of laughter over paper works, subtle touches across the dinner table, and goodnight kisses that lingered a little longer each time.
Still, no label. No official titles. No promises.
But everything else? It felt real.
Kate was starting to slip—not in a bad way, but in a slow, inevitable unraveling of the walls she had carefully built around her heart. Bit by bit, day by day, Frooze chipped away at them. And it terrified her. Because the more she let him in, the harder the fall would be if he decided to walk away.
Yet every time she looked at him—how he smiled when he saw her, how he treated her like she was something fragile yet valuable, how he remembered her schedules, her milktea orders, the way she liked her eggs and hotdogs in the morning—her fears would momentarily disappear.
It was getting harder not to fall.
Their routine was almost domestic.
Each morning, she would wake up to the smell of garlic rice and eggs. Frooze had already gone to work, but a plate of breakfast would be waiting for her on the table, still warm.
Alongside it was a note or a message:
"Morning, baby. Left early. Site was calling. See you tonight. Ingat ka palagi."
His day started at 5 a.m. Hers at 8:30 or sometimes 9. She'd eat while scrolling through her lectures, mind still hazy but comforted by the care left behind.
He'd return late—sometimes at 6 p.m., other days at 8. Kate made dinner when she had time, and they'd eat together at her tiny kitchen table, tired but smiling. She'd ask about his day. He'd tease her about her stress rants.
If they had overlapping lunch breaks, they'd meet at the nearby cafe. Sometimes they didn't, and she'd eat alone at 1 while he had already eaten at 11.
It didn't matter.
They always found time at night—their evenings reserved for typing reports on her couch, their laptops side by side, knees touching, music playing softly in the background.
Between study breaks and site updates, they'd laugh at memes, share random thoughts, argue over who made better pancit canton, and fall asleep tangled up in each other's arms.
It was almost too good to be true.
And maybe that's why it scared her so much.
Kate was trying. She wanted this. This situationship. This half-love, half-waiting-for-something-more.
Sana magwork.
Sometimes, though, when she was alone with her thoughts, she'd wonder:
What if we made it official?
What's so wrong with that?
But she never asked. Because she knew Frooze still wasn't ready. Or maybe she was just afraid to know if he was never going to be.
And worse—maybe, she was already ready. Maybe she was just waiting for him to ask her properly.
The thought terrified her.
"Ang lalim ng iniisip ah."
Kate blinked and turned to Riz, who was staring at her with a raised brow and a half-eaten fishball stick in hand.
They were sitting on a bench near the campus gate. Their last class ended early. It was 3 p.m.—an hour to kill before going home. The sun was soft above them, and the breeze carried with it the scent of fried street food from the nearby vendor.
Riz squinted at her, poking her stick toward Kate's face. "I know that face. May iniisip ka. You looked frustrated."
Kate sighed and slouched against the bench, resting her head briefly on the metal backrest before looking forward. "I don't know. Parang... ang gulo."
"Let me guess," Riz said, popping another fishball into her mouth. "Frooze?"
"Who else?" Kate muttered, cheeks puffing in frustration.
"Okay. Rant. I'm ready." Riz adjusted her seat, facing Kate completely, her fishball stick now forgotten in her other hand.
Kate bit her lip before finally speaking. "We've been doing this thing for two months now. Parang couple. Routine. Sweet. May comfort. May intimacy. Pero wala kaming label. No promises. No commitments. Just… us."
Riz nodded slowly, eyes narrowing in concentration. "And?"
"And I'm scared I'm falling hard. And he might not catch me." Kate's voice trembled slightly at the end.
Riz gave a knowing smile, her tone softer. "But you already fell, Kate."
Kate stared down at her lap. "...Maybe."
Riz leaned a bit closer. "You love him?"
Kate didn't answer.
And that said everything.
Riz gently placed her fishball stick on the bench beside her and leaned in, her brows drawn together, expression serious. "Okay. Here's my take. You two are in a comfort zone. You like it. He likes it. But that zone? It's a thin line between contentment and confusion. And if you're not careful, you'll get stuck there forever."
Kate chewed on her bottom lip, eyes fixed on the gravel beneath their feet.
"So anong gagawin ko?" she whispered.
Riz took a deep breath, her eyes sharp but kind. "Ask yourself this: If he tells you tomorrow that he doesn't want anything serious ever—will you stay?"
Kate's breath caught. She turned to Riz with wide eyes, as if the weight of the question had just physically hit her.
"Kahit hindi mo itanong sa kaniya ngayon," Riz added gently, "you have to be honest with yourself. What are you willing to risk? Kasi sa ngayon, ang ginagawa mong taya ay sarili mo. Baka mamaya, sa dulo, ikaw lang pala ang naglalaro."
Kate didn't speak.
Riz reached out and gently patted her shoulder. "Hindi masamang umasa. Pero masama kung uubusin mo ang sarili mo para sa isang bagay na hindi mo alam kung totoo ba talaga o hindi."
Kate swallowed hard, blinking rapidly to stop the sting in her eyes.
The silence between them grew thick, but it wasn't empty.
It was full—of fear, of longing, of the kind of vulnerability that came with loving someone who hadn't promised to stay.
Kate didn't speak.
But the silence in her chest was loud enough to make her wonder...
What now?
---
Scrolling through TikTok and Facebook.
Swiping up.
Swiping sideways.
Double-tap.
Exit.
Scroll again.
It all sucked.
Every single video was about situationships.
Breakups. Unlabeled love. People falling in love with people who weren't ready. People hoping too hard. Waiting too long. Getting hurt.
It hit a little too close to home.
Because I was in one.
A situationship.
No label, no clarity—just vibes. But also… routines. Smiles. Sleepy forehead kisses. Good morning texts. Dinners. Movie nights.
How do you even categorize something like that?
Bakit ba kasi ako nasa situation na ganito ngayon? Bakit ako pumayag? Bakit ako umaasa na magkaroon ng label kami?
Teka…
Umaasa ako?
My research defense ended yesterday. I should've been feeling light, celebratory even.
But now that all the academic pressure was off my shoulders, I had nothing to distract me from my thoughts.
I was just waiting for the schedule for our section's trip to Manila for our final affiliation in the orthopedic and mental hospital. Three weeks.
One month, at most.
Away.
Far from home. Far from him.
I had already told Frooze about it. We discussed it. He seemed sad at first, but then he smiled and shrugged.
"It's just a month," he said, brushing his fingers against mine. "I have a car. Distance is just a number, baby. I can visit you in Manila if I get the time."
And I believed him.
Because he looked like he meant it. At saka may means naman talaga siya eh. He has his own car. Busy nga lang siya.
But then again… what were we?
We act like we're a couple. We sleep next to each other. We eat meals we both cook. We laugh. We kiss. We care.
So why not just make it official?
The thought weighed heavier and heavier.
Everyday nalang ako nag-o-overthink. Pinipilit ko naman kayanin. But I don't know how long this will last.
TikTok wasn't helping. Facebook was worse.
It was like the entire algorithm knew I was in limbo. Like it knew I was questioning myself every single day—asking myself what this was, what I was doing, why I kept pretending I was okay not knowing what we were.
Hindi kasi talaga ako magaling sa confrontation. I'd rather keep it to myself until I figure out what I would do talaga. Ayaw ko kasi padalos dalos ako. I don't want to dependo n my feelings.
The sun had set. The sky outside was tinged in orange, fading into deep navy.
From the living room, I heard the front door open and close.
7 p.m.
Sakto. It must be Frooze.
I had already finished cooking. Nagluto na ako para sa aming dalawa. I padded to the hallway, eager to greet him.
"Hey," I said with a small smile.
"Hey," he replied, and wrapped his arms around me.
The hug was tight. Like he needed it.
I melted into it, burying my face against his chest.
But something was off.
He wasn't speaking. His grip was firm—too firm. His breathing was deeper than usual. And when I looked up at him, there was something in his eyes.
"Are you okay?" I asked softly.
He didn't answer right away.
Instead, he pulled back from the hug just slightly and gave me a tired smile.
"I'm okay," he said. "Just tired. Ang daming iniisip. I think… I'll stay sa unit ko for the night."
My heart dropped just a little.
"What? Why?"
"I need my desk," he answered quickly. "May mga plans akong kailangang tapusin. Ang daming reports, site revisions. I just need my space for now para matapos ko nang maayos."
I nodded slowly. "Ah. Okay," I said, trying to keep my voice even. "You should go then, para matapos mo agad. I'll pack you dinner. Dalhan nalang kita."
He looked a little relieved. "Thanks, baby." He leaned in and gave me a kiss on the cheek.
Then he turned, opened the door, and left.
Just like that.
And I stood there by the door, staring at nothing.
What just happened?
My fingers curled slightly against my palm.
"What was that…"
Something was off.
He didn't look like himself.
He didn't sound like himself.
And yet I let him walk away without asking more. Without holding him back. Without… saying anything.
I turned around slowly, headed back to the kitchen, eyes unfocused.
The smell of food still lingered in the air.
But the warmth? It had gone cold.
And for the first time in a long time…