Confessions of a Platonic Best Pal

Soon we finished each other's sentences; our families liked each other (by coincidence, we'd both grown up only blocks from each other in a middle-class Jewish suburb); we had many of the same friends; we were "perfect together," or so everyone said, including eventually Daniel. Even I began to wonder: Are we more attracted to each other than we realize? Finally, one night Daniel told me, "I think we should have sex."

This was at the all-night deli. I know it was the all-night deli, because I choked on a pickle and very delicately hacked it up. "You do?" I managed to say.

If we enjoyed each other's company, if there was no one else we'd rather be with, if we challenged and stimulated each other mentally and emotionally, why not try physically? Maybe the ineffable quality of attraction could be willed into being.

We decided to give romance a try. Our inner screenwriters were thrilled: We had the perfect ending for the movie based on our lives. We would live happily ever after. Boy meets girl, boy gets girl.