And I Love Him....

Okay, so... Really, I dunno what to say. I can't think of a way to tell this without sounding creepy, so, to h*** with it, I'll just tell it...

Alright. So, I am a bisexual male, and I am in my early 20's. A few years ago, a friend of mine, named Steven, confessed to me his curiosity about homosexual relations, and a certain way he seemed to feel about me. It was very flattering, and really, kinda sweet to hear, since I'd just ended a bad relationship and was quite lonely. But, here's the thing... Steven had, and still has, a girlfriend. A girlfriend, with whom I was, and still am very friendly with. He had a bit of a history of being unfaithful to her, despite her best efforts, despite her being the type of beautiful, good woman that other men would (and do) bend over backwards trying to get close to. The so-called "trophy girl". I felt bad, but, nonetheless, allowed Steven to get close to me. Really close, if you get my drift. To the point of him taking me on dates, telling me he loved me, and coming to stay with me at every possible opportunity, all the while lying to his girlfriend about the nature of our friendship...

I felt a certain way towards him that I'd never quite felt. I'd been plenty in love before, but not this way. Not so fierce that the person invaded my dreams, kept me up at night thinking about them, could ask anything of me and have it, just like that... I loved him so much, I even, regretfully, neglected other people and things in efforts to spend time with or speak to him. I loved everything about him. His boyish, playful attitude, his slim, skateboarder like figure and style of dress, his fuzzy chin and smooth belly, his happy, southern accented voice, the way he would lay on my chest randomly and sleep...

But, eventually, reality came calling. Steven didn't love me. He never had. His bi-curiosity was real, the pleasure he felt at s** with a man was real. But his love for that same man, was not. I was nothing more than a vehicle with which to satiate a shameful urge, and to sate his hyperactive s**-drive when his girlfriend was not available to do so, and I just happened to be enough fun to hang out with in between bouts of intense lovemaking and sleeping. The rest was all lies. Sweet, little lies of love and care, that tickled my heart, and made me feel so happy, happier than I'd ever felt in my life.... And the fallout from the truth was severe. I had taken the high road, and confessed everything to his girlfriend. She took it rather hard, and the knowledge of the pain I'd just caused her, combined with the pain that I was feeling myself broke me. I couldn't eat, sleep, think... H***, I could barely function.

It's been almost two years since then. And I still love him. I just can't feel that way towards others anymore, no matter how hard I try. I can barely have s** with anyone, male or female, because I'll think of him instead of them. I can't self-pleasure, without looking at imagery and video of persons who look very similar to him, or almost exactly like him. I also notice myself actively seeking out people with the same bodily appearance and attitude that he has. I almost literally cannot get off or enjoy myself in that way without thinking of him. I sometimes still dream of him, wrapped in my arms, asleep, or sitting in my lap gently brushing his nose against mine while I rub his back, only to wake up and feel deep sadness at the realization that it wasn't real... I can't get him out of my head, no matter how hard I try, no matter what I do, no matter what anyone says. My attraction to and feeling of love for him in my chest hasn't subsided or faded or in any way changed.

I know its unhealthy, I know it is wrong, and, in a sense, knowing what I know to be truth, it's actually pretty stupid. But, I cannot help it. The boy stole my heart, whether he really wanted it or not, and he still has it... I'm still friends with him, and his girlfriend, who holds no ill will towards me. I saw them both just yesterday, and we went to a local reptile rescue to look at the animals and have a good time. And, that whole time, I couldn't look at him straight. I couldn't look at his eyes, I couldn't stand close to him, and I didn't want to touch him... But at the same time, I did, ever so badly. The hug he gave me upon seeing me was almost too much to handle, and, though I didn't show it, the same, genuinely affectionate hug from his girlfriend almost made me cry. Out of self hate and loathing, for the strange, often quite overwhelming obsession and passionate feeling I hold towards the young, childish, slim man that she loves... that I love, too...

I want so badly to hold him again; I want him to sit in my lap and let me sing songs to him again, I want us to lay together in bed, one on top of the other, looking in each other's eyes. I want to feel his soft skin under my fingers, and I want to hear him breathing gently as he sleeps on my shoulder... I know this is not good. I know, this is a very real problem that is affecting my social life and s** life very badly. But I want him back so badly, liar, though he was. Liar, though he still is, to this day. But dammit... they were the most beautiful lies anyone ever told me...

Help me...

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  • You WILL get through this. You just have to keep going.
    I know that sounds like incredibly lame advice, but it's true.
    If you keep looking, you will find someone else who you love just as much. There is no such thing as a soulmate. There are hundreds, millions, thousands of people who you have the potential to fall in love with.
    You also really need to talk to someone about this. Someone you know, not strangers on the internet. I know from experience that when you reach the point where you feel your only option is an online confession website, it's because you don't feel like you can talk to anyone else. You can, though. You will always have people who love and care for you, and will want to support you no matter what. Talk to friends and family. If she isn't angry with you, maybe you could talk to Steven's girlfriend. In a way, you two are going through this together, so she might be able to help. Maybe (and I know how scary this must sound to you right now), you can talk to Steven. He still cares about you, and wants you to be OK. Understanding his feelings and motivations could help you.
    Maybe you could talk to a psychiatrist. It might seem like you're paying them to just sit there while you talk, but you might be able to open up to them more, and they could give you good psychological advice.
    No matter what, just talk to someone, and remember that it will get better. Trust me. One bisexual to another.
    Stay strong.

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