The initial excitement of university life and the novelty of long-distance communication began to wear off, replaced by the routine demands and the inevitable growing pains. Our scheduled calls and texts, while essential, sometimes felt like forced attempts to connect amidst overwhelming busyness.
There were evenings when we were both exhausted after a long day of classes and studying. Calls would be shorter, conversations less energetic. Sometimes, one of us would fall asleep during a video call, leading to a quiet, digital disconnection.
"Sorry I fell asleep last night," she'd text sheepishly in the morning. "Was so tired."
"It's okay," I'd reply. "Me too. Long day here."
These weren't signs of waning interest, but simply the reality of trying to maintain a relationship while navigating the intense demands of our first year at university. The energy that used to be spent on seeing each other daily was now split between academics, new social lives, and the conscious effort of long-distance communication.
Misunderstandings, though usually small, still arose from the lack of immediate context and physical cues. A text message could be misinterpreted, a tone of voice on a rushed call could be misread.
"You sounded a little annoyed on the phone earlier," I'd venture cautiously after a call where she seemed distant.
"Oh, no! Sorry, Hiroshi! Just stressed about an upcoming paper! Wasn't annoyed at you at all!" she'd quickly reassure.
Or she'd ask about something based on a brief text update, missing the full picture of what was happening on my end.
These moments, while usually resolved quickly with clarification, were reminders of the fragility of long-distance communication. It required an extra layer of patience, a willingness to ask for clarification rather than jumping to conclusions, and a deep well of trust.
Sometimes, one of us would be busy or stressed and unintentionally become distant or less responsive.
"Haven't heard from you much today?" I might text, after a long period of silence.
Sakura: So sorry, Hiroshi! Had back-to-back lectures and then a massive study session for a midterm! Just got back to my room! Hope you had a good day! ❤️
Her quick, apologetic reply and the heart emoji were reassuring, but the initial silence still created a brief moment of worry.
It required conscious effort from both of us to not let these communication challenges become bigger problems. It meant celebrating the small victories (a successful call, a shared laugh over a text) and being understanding during the difficult times (missed calls, delays).
The "rhythm of the miles" wasn't just about scheduling calls; it was about navigating the emotional ups and downs that came with relying on digital communication and occasional visits. It was about trusting that the other person was still there, still committed, even when they were busy or tired or miles away. These growing pains were a test of our patience, our understanding, and the fundamental strength of the bond we had forged, determined to make it work despite the distance that was now a constant in our daily lives.