“Hindi mo naman ako naiintindihan, eh.”

I remembered saying those words when my boyfriend asked me a question—one that

I was afraid of hearing again. “Ano bang nangyari, love?” he asked.

I wanted to answer. I was just scared of what might come after I answered that question.

I had been in that position before—trying to explain what I meant, only to realize that the person listening understood something entirely different. So, when he asked, I hesitated. What if I told him and he would not understand?

There are known to be five main love languages: words of affirmation, acts of service,

gift-giving, quality time, and physical touch. They describe the different ways people tend to express and receive affection.

Yet even knowing these five love languages does not guarantee that we will understand

the people we love. Someone may spend hours with us and still miss what we are trying to say. Someone may shower us with words of affection while we are waiting for action. Another person may become quiet when they are hurt, only to be misunderstood as uninterested.

Perhaps this is because we do not speak the same emotional language.

We each have our own ways of expressing what we feel, asking for what we need, and

showing why we care. Some people say “I love you” directly. Others say it by remembering the smallest details, making time, checking in, or simply staying when things become difficult. The problem begins when we expect people to understand a language they have never learned.

I have realized that the simplest conversations can become complicated when two

people attach different meanings to the same words. Saying “Iʼm fine” can mean exactly that to a person, while to another, it can mean a quiet request to be asked again. Silence can mean peace to one person and distance to another. What feels like affection to us may not feel like affection to someone else.

And perhaps that is where many misunderstandings begin—not because we do not

care, but because we assume that caring should automatically make us understand.

We become frustrated when people fail to respond the way we expect them to. We

wonder why they did not ask, why they did not notice, or why they could not simply understand. Yet we rarely stop to consider that what seems to be obvious to us may not be obvious to them.

We often measure someone's care using the way we know how to give it. We expect

reassurance because that is how we reassure others. We expect someone to talk when something is wrong because that is how we deal with our own problems. When they do otherwise, we mistake difference for indifference.

But perhaps understanding someone requires more than learning what they say. It

requires learning what they mean.

Learning that their silence may mean something else than being distant. Learning that

their jokes may mean discomfort. Learning that their way of saying “I care” may look completely different from ours. Because genuine connection cannot always come from asking someone to speak our language. Sometimes, we have to be willing to learn theirs.

Sometimes, we want them to notice what we feel without having to explain everything.

We expect them to know because they love us. But love does not automatically give them access to our thoughts, does it?

And perhaps that is what I need to remember as I sit here, with him still waiting for my

answer. I am still afraid, but refusing to explain would mean never giving him the chance to learn my language—to learn me. So, I finally answered him. I told him what was bothering me. He listened, and he tried to understand.

Being understood was never about finding someone who could read me perfectly. It was

about finding someone who is willing to listen, to ask, and to learn—even when my language is unfamiliar to them.

And that is true for every relationship we have. We cannot expect them to

understand us immediately just as we do not understand them without making an effort. People carry different experiences, different ways of expressing themselves, and different meanings behind the same words. And maybe the sixth language is not understanding itself, but the willingness to learn. To learn how someone speaks when they are hurt, how they show affection, how they ask to be heard, and how they say the things they cannot put into words.

Because sometimes, love is not about knowing exactly what to say. Sometimes, it is

simply choosing to stay, listen, and learn until the words make sense.

The Frontman