The city teaches you many lessons.
But the hardest one is this—silence can hurt more than arguments.
I learned that slowly. Painfully.
A Normal Day That Didn't Feel Normal
It started like any other weekday.
Morning traffic.
Coffee that tasted too bitter.
Office noise that felt louder than usual.
I checked my phone.
No message from Riya.
I told myself not to overthink. She was busy. Different country. Different time zone. I understood that.
At least, I tried to.
The Missed Call
Around midnight, my phone rang.
Riya.
I answered instantly.
But the call dropped.
I tried calling back. No answer.
One minute passed. Then five. Then ten.
My chest felt heavy.
What if something happened?
What if she needed me and I wasn't there?
By the time she messaged—
"Sorry Tom, meeting ran long. I'm exhausted. Talk tomorrow?"
—I was already emotionally drained.
The First Crack
I typed slowly.
"Okay."
Just one word.
She replied with a heart emoji.
But for the first time, it didn't feel enough.
Inside My Head
I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling.
I hated myself for feeling this way.
She wasn't doing anything wrong.
She was building her career.
She was surviving in a new city.
So why did I feel… left behind?
The city outside my window was alive—cars, lights, people moving forward.
And I felt stuck.
Unspoken Expectations
The next few days followed the same pattern.
Short calls.
Delayed replies.
Missed conversations.
We talked—but didn't connect.
I wanted to say:
"I miss you more than I show"
"I need reassurance"
"I feel distant"
But I didn't.
Because I didn't want to sound weak.
Because I didn't want to add pressure.
Because I thought love meant understanding silently.
I was wrong.
Riya Feels It Too
One evening, she finally asked:
"Tom… are you upset with me?"
I paused.
"No," I said. Too quickly.
There was silence on the call.
Then she said softly,
"You sound far away."
That sentence hit harder than any argument could.
The Half-Truth
"I'm just tired," I replied.
Another half-truth.
She sighed. "I feel like I'm losing you… and I don't even know why."
My throat tightened.
I wanted to tell her everything.
But instead, I said,
"We're fine."
Sometimes the words we choose are the ones that hurt us later.
The City and the Loneliness
That night, I walked alone through the city streets.
Couples laughed around me.
Friends shared food and stories.
The city felt crowded—but I felt alone.
I realized something important:
Distance didn't create this pain.
Silence did.
A Message I Almost Didn't Send
Back home, I stared at my phone for a long time.
Then I typed.
Deleted.
Typed again.
Deleted again.
Finally, I sent it.
"Riya… I haven't been honest.
I miss you more than I say.
Sometimes I feel disconnected, not because of you—but because I don't know how to express it.
I don't want to lose us."
My hands were shaking.
Waiting
Minutes felt like hours.
The city outside slowed down.
Then her reply came.
"Thank you for telling me.
I've been feeling the same… but I was scared to say it.
Let's not hide anymore."
My chest finally relaxed.
Understanding
We talked longer that night than we had in weeks.
Not about work.
Not about schedules.
About feelings.
Fear.
Loneliness.
Love.
I realized love doesn't need perfection.
It needs honesty, even when it's uncomfortable.
A New Promise
Before the call ended, she said:
"Promise me something, Tom."
"What?"
"Next time something hurts… don't go silent."
I smiled softly. "I promise. You too."
Reflection
The city will always be loud.
Life will always be busy.
But love survives only when we speak the words we're afraid to say.
That night, I slept better.
Not because the distance disappeared.
But because the silence did.
Episode 23 Hook
Will honesty heal the growing distance, or is this only the beginning of deeper emotional challenges?
Can love survive long-distance without silence returning?