"Aren't you ruining your friendship?" he asked when he learned that my best friend and I share a bed when we visit each other. Even though he said we wouldn't work as a couple, he couldn't hide the jealousy in his voice. I could understand his jealousy: my best friend is the kindest man you'll ever meet, 6'5", level-headed, wouldn't hurt a fly. He's my polar opposite: calm, soft spoken, mentally stable. He's my mirror image: adventurous, athletic, a reader. We click, platonically. We don't click at all, romantically. So when we share a bed and I crawl into his arms in the middle of the night, it's so he can chase away the demons in my mind.
