
These past few days, the rain has been pouring a bit heavier— and somehow, everything feels the same way too.
While others find solace in the rhythm of raindrops against their windows, some hearts turn blue, their thoughts gray, silently drowning in a noise no one else can hear.
There are little battles no one talks about, and now is a good time to check on your friends. Especially the ones who always say they’re “fine.”
Because maybe they’re not.
Maybe the one who cracks jokes in your group chat has been crying in between tasks. Maybe the friend who always helps others with deadlines is the one falling behind. Or maybe the one who posts sunny photos is just trying to convince themselves that they still feel that way.
The acads haven’t been kind either. Every week feels like a loop of deadlines, requirements, and caffeine-fueled nights. And while we laugh about it, deep down, we all know it is not that funny. Some of us are just surviving, one quiz, one submission, and one fake smile at a time.
Then there’s homesickness— the kind that sneaks in at night when the dorm gets too quiet, or when you see your family’s photo taped to the wall beside your messy notes. You scroll through old group chats, reread your mom’s messages, and suddenly, the distance feels heavier than your workload.
And let’s not forget the world outside: earthquakes, floods, brownouts, storms that do not seem to end. Yet, classes still go on. Life still goes on.
We scroll through news about calamities while trying to finish academic loads. We say “stay safe” like it’s nothing, when what we really mean is, “I hope you still have the strength to make it through today.”
That is why daily check-ins matter. A simple “Kain ka na?” or “Tara, kape?” can be a lifeline. You don’t have to fix your friend’s problems. Sometimes, they just need to know you care, that someone still notices their silence.
We often think our friends are strong because they look okay. But sometimes, even the strongest people just need someone to ask, “Hey, kumusta? ‘Yong totoo?”
Not to fix them, not to offer advice, but just to remind them that they’re not alone. That there is a hand ready to hold their broken pieces. That there is a shoulder willing to cradle their tears. That there is someone they can run to.
So check on your friends. The noisy one. The achiever. The one who jokes about dropping out but still shows up. The one who says “busy lang” but hasn’t really been okay.
Call that friend. Send a message.
The world is already cold enough with this weather, a little warmth won’t hurt.
Because sometimes, the heaviest storms aren’t outside— they’re the ones our friends are quietly trying to survive. In the end, it’s not just umbrellas we need, but each other.