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NOTES: This is from a slightly obscure book-turned-movie, and could be set in either of them. It takes place within the canon, somewhere around the middle-ish. The relationship is canon (for once), and so is the kiss. Good luck.
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If you were any other person in the world, I would call you cruel. Only the most naive, ridiculous, innocent person could do what you did to me and not know how it made me feel. Only you could do that.
You don't understand. You've never felt the need to hide from your feelings; in your mind, emotions are straightforward and simple. There is love, or there is no love.
So how could it have been cruel when you kissed me like that? You danced with me, carried me away, let me melt into your beautiful innocent eyes, and you kissed me. And then you called me your brother, and I died inside.
I knew that there was no way that you could understand why I had to leave, so I didn't try to explain it to you. I couldn't tell you how you were softly and silently killing me with your platonic love. I couldn't explain to you how much I wanted you, because it would be like trying to explain to a child. I just couldn't do that to you. I knew it would break your heart to know that you couldn't give me what I needed.
So I left. I thought it would be best for you to be alone with the one you truly love, the woman whose love you could reciprocate in the way you never could mine. I know you love her. I know you love her the way I want you to love me. That's why I had to leave you.
I know what you're feeling now. I can see it, in my mind's eye. You're scared, and lost, and you don't know why I left. You'll blame yourself for kissing me, you'll think that's the reason I left. It is, but not the way you perceive it.
You're going to try to find me. I know that. Or at least, you'll want to. She might not let you, might talk you out of it. She understands me and has more sense than you do. But regardless, I won't let you find me. I can't. I know that if I see you again, I'll want you too badly. I won't be able to control my emotions, and I'll succumb to your unequalled charm.
That's your true strength, my love. Your charm is unlike anything I have ever known before. I felt it from the second I met you way back when we were children. My family felt it too; I know my mother did. You have an ease about you, a childishness and at the same time a depth that draws us to you, forcing us under and drowning us in the dark flood of your love. We are helpless.
Please believe me when I say that I love you. I do. I love you more than anything, I have since we were little boys. But I know that I can't have you, not like that. I'm resigned to it. That's why I have to leave.
Be happy. That's all I ask. Be happy with her. Be happy for me. And, if you can, forget that you once loved me.