#rodly

This is a memory. Of you.

Of how you would walk up to my classroom and fetch me for practice, walking tall and dark, in your uniform, with a handsome grin on your face.

Of how you would ask us to eat out on recess breaks. Palabok. Ice cream. Bet on food, even.

Of how you would call me "Ading Joy" and Trina, "Baby". And Kuya Joel "Mang Jose" and you, "Loida", after your mother.

Of how you joked around Oliver and Lence, even made each cry at least once.

Of how you would play with me queenless, and even then I wouldn't win. I think I beat you just once. Once in my lifetime spent with you.

Of how you looked like on graduation day, with a medal dangling from your neck for being the chess player that you are.

Of my jersey warmer. Until now I haven't figured out who took it, though I have a good enough feeling it was you.

Of how you maintained communication, even after graduation. Your text messages and your chats about chess, and life, and everything in between.

Now, you placed yourself under the holy covers of the earth. And I would always remember you, Kuya Rodly, jolly, dark and between us, you are the chess king. Even as I play queenless, it will be you I remember. I love you. And will miss you forever.