When we think of what encapsulates a close relationship amongst the people around us, we typically think of the conversations we have. However, I must say that ironically, the silence is what defines our relationships.
Think about a first date. You're sitting in a Starbucks with a really nice guy across from you. You hesitantly start a conversation, talking about coursework and how "that professor assigns A LOT of work but his/her lectures are so insightful." He laughs and shows you the lines that he has to memorize in time for the first audition. This leads to a discussion about your interests and you both get excited when you discover that you have a few mutual interests. The volume of your voices flow in a sinusoidal function, gradually increasing as you both get more interested in each other but naturally soften as you still realize that you still do not know each other so well. Finally, all small talk finishes and you're just left staring at each other while sipping on your frappuccinos.
At first, the silence is perfectly normal and you appreciate looking into his hazel eyes. But the minutes pass by and you can't help but feel the weight of the silence hanging in the air. You both look away from each other and can't help but wonder so what now? You two both fidget around till one of you finally stutters out an excuse.
"I um, have to go study for my test," he stutters as he gathers his now empty frappuccino.
"See you soon?" These last words give you hope-- the silence was extremely uncomfortable, but hey, you didn't expose your weird side yet so he wants to see you again!
It's these painfully awkward silences that help you appreciate the comfortable silences you have with the people you really care for. Whether it be just sitting on the couch together and not saying a word to each other for hours, or just sitting in a car together in silence, you learn that a special person's presence is all that is needed.
On my way to the airport a few days ago, my parents and I jammed my many suitcases into our sedan. The hour-long drive was in complete silence (albeit, I was asleep through most of it). The same silence ensued when we drove our rental car to a hotel near my college campus. Although I realize that it was probably one of my last few days with them as still their "baby," I didn't feel the need to speak. Their presence was enough for me.
When I think of silence, I typically categorize it into two categories: painfully awkward and comfortable. With my parents, it's thankfully the latter. While I talk about a myriad of topics with friends, acquaintances, and family members, there are few people that come to mind when I think of the privilege of sharing a space of silence. A comfortable silence is like a warm bubble; the beauty of it is in how everyone involved is able to appreciate each other without using words to show it.
Classes are starting soon, and my parents will inevitably leave. I'll miss our conversations, I'll miss our jokes. But most of all, I'll miss our silence because I don't need words to express my appreciation for them.
