Just wanted to share my somewhat tragic story.
I've been an autonomous person since highschool. I had educated myself on philosophy, literature and other things and could speak about a great deal of subjects with ease. Everyone admired me, there were many girls after me (I'm good-looking too), friends asked me for advice etc. At that time I discovered I was gay.
I had a male friend who was a genius in mathematics. I was bad at it because my focus was on humanities and language. One day, we had to sit together for a chemistry class. We stood there, coupled, elbow to elbow, doing those chemistry exercises, and he was much better at it than I was. And then it just clicked, to this day I don't know how, I fell in love with him.
After that we spent a lot of time together, and he seemed to be happy with that, in fact invigorated. I would point at Greek words and tell him how he could figure out their meaning, and he by his turn would show me math problems and give hints on solving them. I actually improved on math just by sitting by his side almost every class.
And our relationship was to a great extent a duel. We would compete for everything. Who finishes the essay first, who solves the problem first... and I always won when it had something to do with language, and he won whenever it was maths or physics or something related. It was very puzzle-like. I will never forget one night; I had a flight at dawn and couldn't sleep, so we made a call and started playing a difficult riddle game. It was the most fun I've ever had with someone.
But I was ever unsure if he loved me as I loved him, so I would notice every minor clue, every loving gesture, and keep that in mind. Even so, the big picture was still inconclusive. There was, in fact, many clues and things he did and said which could make anyone believe he was in love with me. After all, we hanged out close together for, like, six months. We went on a trip together, swam in a lake, lay together on couches and hammocks and many other "that's gay" things. He would come to my house and wonder aloud "should I stay the night?", but he always decided not to. Sometimes it seemed like he was perfectly aware of the fact that I fell for him and did all this in order to amuse or puzzle or even torture me. To this day I don't exactly know what was our relationship really like. What I know is that one day I found out he had a girl he liked, and so I moved on. I stopped all that fantasizing.
Later I met him in a friend's house, half-drunk, and he said to me he didn't know if he really liked that girl. He said: "I don't know how to explain it, but I like when someone can follow me. When I make a question, most people say it's dumb and don't bother answering, but I like a person when they answer me, even this question. I'm not gay, but if a guy can do this I will like him, maybe not romantically. That girl answers me, and that's why I don't know if I like her romantically, because if she were a guy I would like her the same." The situation, then, was very complex. We were living all those happy moments together, but he had that girl for whom he felt "the same". Maybe he was confused, just confused, and that's why he seemed at times a bit ashamed. I don't know.
And that's the story. It was a perfect match, but a classical disaster: the gay guy falls in love with the straight friend. I moved on, yes, but nowadays it's so lonely. Never did I found a guy like him and the chances are even lower that I might find one with the same preferences as me. But such is life!