It was a whole debacle, ordeal. I will recount one of the many instances I realized my friend betrayed me. I was sitting.... or standing, I can't remember, in the doorway from the kitchen to the living room, which lead to the front door. It was chilly but it was dark more than anything. My friend stood, about to leave the house, but we were caught in conversation. I asked them what happened. They explained they had blew the money on an escort that never came and got scammed. I had no words, I wondered if the escort was the person they were now with, who was ruining our lives. I felt sympathy and I was empathizing to rationalize their decisions for them, because I wanted to do anything but kick them out of the house. My vision was partly blocked by the doorway as I listened silently; as I had no clue what to do with my hands. I stared at them, doing my best to keep eye contact but drifting off occasionally. At least they were honest. Their heart bled too much for it to make a difference, though.