Brian closed his eyes, wishing he was on the couch next to Danielle, instead of where he was, on the recliner without her love. He could feel it building inside. The burning. The longing. Three years worth of repressed feelings. The melting pot was boiling over. He wouldn’t be able to hold things together much longer.

If he heard one more word, just one, he would not be able to control himself.

“And-”

Something snapped.

“Okay, you want some advice? Stop dating jerks. Stop being so caught up in seeing how hot a guy you can catch. Stop using me as your emotional crutch. I’m sick of picking up the pieces when they’re done with you.”

“You think I can’t see through you, Brian? You’re only my friend because you think someday in a moment of weakness I might let you in my pants. Not going to happen. You’re my crutch? I use you? Whatever! You’ve been using me since the moment we met. And you know it!”

“I love you.”

“I’m sorry. You’re just not my type.”

And that’s the truth about platonic relationships.