It almost blew me away. The money could actually buy a good-enough cell phone unit, a big box of second-hand books, a trip to Baguio, or a month of rent. But the crisp bill is gone. For the first time in my life I loathe somebody because I suspect him to have stolen my money. I am moving to a condominium in Mandaluyong because I cannot afford to live with a person I cannot anymore trust.
Trust, these days, is getting really expensive. I attempted to confront him, but it was in vain. We failed to talk on a neutral platform because emotions were in their most heated state. I was never able to comprehend his reasons. Everything seems to point to him, but he might have gained this skill in lying that he easily dodged all my evidences without actually debunking any of the points I raised why I thought it was he who stole the money.
I know I sound irrational here. This has never happened to me before: confronting the person who did me bad things and hating the person at the same time. The methods he used to answer my questions were too crude yet too effective: gibberish and singing children limericks while I am talking. I never thought people like him exist. I kept myself from throwing the cheap paper weight straight to his face.
I guess Manila is too big a city to expect people living in the ideal. Trust, I repeat, costs dear. Well, the 100 US dollars, it’ll take me a three days of working in my current job to earn it. If there are good things this experience has done they would be finally leaving this place, knowing that I should not trust people too easily, and realizing that it feels so bad losing 100 US dollars.