Autobiographical Outing dilemma

I am an anthropologist and an author. I delve into many topics, ranging from religion, to politics, to sci-fi, to sex and love. My aspirations will soon lead me into politics. Most of my literary work is under pen names; I have always been careful with what I write, ensuring that I will never be ashamed of anything I have written. Over the past several years I have told friends, professors, and my Rabbis, my story of growing up as the son of a southern baptist minister, going to a baptist school, becoming a southern baptist minister; accepting myself and coming out as gay; my path of eventually leaving the church and converting to Judaism (Reform). In turn, the people I have told my story have encouraged me to publish my life story. They have pointed out the people I could help, and the minds I could help to change. My problem is a major part in my story. When I was a teenager my best friend and I were much more than friends. He was my first kiss, my first sexual encounter; my first love. We were together from the ages of 13 to 18. We would have sex, cuddle, long for each other when we were apart, but we would never admit to ourselves the feelings we shared. We were both good true love waits "adherents", gays are evil, southern baptist. He went to the military and I went to college. We last spoke to each other after his brother died almost 10 years ago. I told him I was out as a gay man, and he never spoke to me again. He is married with kids. I truly do believe he is bi, he cheated on me when we were together as teenagers, with a girl. The thing is, if I write my story, I don't think it would be complete without him. It took me many years to get over him. After I came out at 22, I pursued men that reminded me of him, trying to recreate him. To this day, despite the time and distance, I still love him, and will never not love him. I don't mean that in a creepy stalker-ish ex way. I mean it in a way that I care that he is happy and loved. That he gets the best out of life, and I never want to see any harm come to him, nor his family. I was (and I still am) a weird duck. As a teenager I was a loner and really only ever hung with him. Almost every weekend, holidays off from school (except Christmas), and summers were spent with him. If I write my story and include him, even unnamed; his family, the community we grew up in, which he is still part of, will quickly figure out that he is the one I am talking about. It would out him, and risk his family and happiness.I could write my life story under a pen, but in truth I feel I need to claim my story as my own. I could leave him out; though by leaving him out, my anguish and disparity which drove me to near suicide, then eventual self acceptance wouldn't make complete sense. I fear the reader would quickly grasp my story is missing a motivation; they would miss the campus pastor telling me it was just a phase, and to pray, find a good Christian girl, get married and have sex; that then I would be cured. They would miss that campus pastor coaching me to write my boyfriend in denial a dear John letter, while he was in advanced military training. Telling him we were sinners and I never wanted to speak to him again. They wouldn't truly grasp my two weeks of refusing to leave my dorm room after, crying and praying he would never receive the letter. By leaving him out I lose part of me, the part he makes up in me. Any suggestions?