Love Within Deadlines

Unanswered texts, postponed meetups, and “after finals” promises.

During finals season, love often feels like something we owe rather than something we can give. We draft the replies in our head, but we don’t actually send them. We cancel plans we were once excited about, and reassure the people in our lives with a vague “I’ll reschedule with you to another date”. In the rush to meet deadlines or cram lecture content, relationships, be it familial, platonic, or romantic, tend to slip into the background. This does not mean they matter less, but because they potentially demand a kind of presence we no longer feel capable of offering during this specific period. However, it is precisely in these moments of constraint that love becomes the most telling, not in how much time we have, but in what we choose to do with the little time that remains. Finals season and deadlines do not eliminate love; rather they reshape how it is expressed, which reveals which relationships can endure under pressure.

Let’s talk about the illusion of not having time. This notion paints a picture as to why relationships get sidelined. The urgency of our academics feels more immediate and measurable, as opposed to the human connections we possess. The key factor that drives this is emotional exhaustion. While there is a lack of time present, the lack of energy to be fully present in meetups drives us to postpone hangout sessions. The word postpone is important here. The key idea is not that relationships matter less than our academics, it is simply because they are easier to push to a later time. We all hold a unanimous, silent agreement that no matter how consumed we are with work, our relationships will always remain, even without constant communication. Rather than adopting that mindset, shouldn’t we be grateful for the opportunity to believe as such?

Not to add more onto the already (very) full plate of students during finals season, but I think our relationships and even us, would benefit if we shifted our mindset from disappearance to adaptation. These do not have to manifest in extremely drastic ways such as abandoning our study schedules completely solely to have a meal with our friends, but they can show up as slow shifts in our behaviour. Long conversations can be turned into brief check-ins, quality time can show up as parallel presence. This can be viewed as study sessions, quick lunch dates during breaks, and more. Another category is expressive affection, which is the way we actively show our love for each other, and I believe it is this aspect that is the most misunderstood. Misunderstood in the sense that the view people generally have on this notion tends to be extremely linear and uniformed. However, I think there are a plethora of ways expressive affection can show up as. It can be shifted to practical care, and this act can be as simple as asking someone if they have eaten. In our already cloudy, stormy, and loud world, it is through these tiny acts that can make the sun shine brighter for our inner world. Love should not completely disappear during such seasons, rather they should become quieter and smaller, but more intentional.

Having discussed the other parties, it is also crucial to address ourselves. We too, hold a sense of duty to maintain our relationships, and doing so under constraint can seem tough. There are a few things that can remove the burden. These include lowering expectations, communication, and effort. It is important to realise that not every interaction requires depth or length. It is the ones with initiative that stand out to us, and we need to realise that consistency matters more than intensity, especially during periods of time in which everyone is busy. It also takes two hands to clap. Reassurances, no matter how small, can sustain connections, and this can manifest as tiny as letting the people around you know you’re busy to prevent any misinterpretation. Building small habits such as texts, study calls, and quick meals can help as well. When tiny pockets of time are filled with such activities, it provides us a sense of stability and peace of mind within chaos.

Finals eventually end. The deadlines pass and our schedules start to loosen up. The time we once rationed so carefully returns quietly, in almost unfamiliar ways. However, the relationships do not simply resume where they were left, but they carry the imprint of how they were treated during the moments of constraint.  What remains is not simply a return to normalcy, but a quiet revelation of what was sustained in their absence. Some relationships resume with ease, and they slip back into a sense of familiarity as though the distance was only temporary. Others feel out of reach, conversations are more tentative and the closeness is now dulled by prolonged silence. There are also the ones that fade almost completely, not through conflict, but through repeated postponements.

In this sense, love within deadlines is never just about survival, but also continuity. What we choose to preserve, even during the limited time we have, determines what remains when the pressure lifts.