adikbuk
Miami, 3 AM
Hindi ako makatulog.
Nakahiga ako dito sa king-size bed ng condo ko sa South Beach, pero parang nasa semento ang katawan ko. Three years, bro. Three fucking years since she left.
Kinuha ko ang phone ko sa nightstand. No messages. Wala ring calls. Pero bakit ko ba ine-expect na may message si Yna? She made it clear nung umalis siya na tapos na kami.
"Focus on your dreams, Pablo. Forget about me."
Nyemas! How can I forget the only woman who made me feel like I was more than just someone from Cavite kid trying to make it big?
Tomorrow may game kami against the Lakers. Dapat tulog na ako. But here I am, thinking about Yna Isabel Ortega. Again.
Mahusay talgang mag-disappear 'yung babae. One day nandyan siya, taking care of my injuries, laughing at my jokes. The next day, wala na. Gone.
Pero totoo lahat 'yun. I can still remember her hands treating my shoulder. How she smelled like jasmine. How she looked at me like I wasn't just some great basketball player, but someone worth knowing.
Tumayo ako at naglakad sa window. The ocean stretches endlessly, dark and mysterious. Like the questions in my head.
Where is she now? Is she happy?
Maangas man pakinggan, but I made it, pare. NBA champion. Finals MVP. Everything I dreamed of. But why does it feel like I'm missing the most important piece?
Success tastes like shit when you have no one to share it with.
I close my eyes: Someday, I'll find her. Someday, I'll get my answers.
Game time in six hours, Pablo. Get your shit together.