Who am I?

I don’t even know where to start or if this even matters. I just know that no one but one other knows this. But the complications in this are so scrambled together, I’m not even sure if my conclusions are right. When my best friend and I were both about ten or eleven, we had been friends since we met at age eight. We would see eachother regularly, sleep over eachothers houses, et-cet. One night sleeping at his house, he suddenly grabbed my hand and made me fondle him. At the time I didn’t know why, or why I even went with it, but for some reason I did. And I was somewhat aware that I was sexually attracted to girls. After the first time, we started sexually experimenting regularly during sleep overs, in which case I progressively became comfortable with it, still not understanding why. I recall us both resolving with eachother that this was like practicing on eachother to prepare for girlfriends in the future, I guess because we eventually were aware that these homosexual activities of ours were not considered normal and were best preserved as secret. and so us both in self denial, we forced ourselves to adjust our behavior and mentality respectively, around the ‘elephant in the room’. But then one day few years later in our mid teens, we reached our climax of insecurity so I asked him if he remembered when it started, how, and why. He said he remembers me first proposing to engage in the idea. But I remember that moment most vividly among few other significant moments in life. We decided to stop doing it, to not talk about it, think about it, or tell anyone. And we did exactly that. Here’s my problem- after discontinuance of our intimacy, I started to miss it. I figured the reason why to be because he’s my best friend, who I loved and still love beyond any physical satisfaction, and because he’s beautiful in all ways. I realized that I fell in love with him. And I KNOW those experiences stirred his sexuality as well, he’s just in denial of it. What hurts me, is that he tries his best to deny these feelings, with the fear of deviating from the socially accepted norm. It pisses me off that I was at once normal (perfectly capable of being homosexually influenced) and then sexually violated by my best friend; then- in order to not turn against him in a state of blind hate- forcing myself to psychologically adjust myself to gain satisfaction for it in spite of keeping our friendship, just to have that beautiful connection we had cut off to never be indulged again, now having to live the rest of my life knowing what happened, what could have been, and dealing with the fact that it didn’t, and wishing beyond all possibility that we could have that happiness, and ultimately the possibility that he feels exactly the same. Said experiences have enticed many internal conflicts, which in turn enticed harmless pot smoking into cocaine and alcohol use. We both now are addicts and alcoholics. But despite the many chaotic and delusional episodes of feelings of hopelessness, I still and always will have the most potent love for that kid, a special love beyond any human understanding… even my own.