Several of my good friends, men of my own kind, confronted me over the years about my lying. It wasn’t so much the lies about the big things as the lies about the little stuff, the need to lie at all. Why does an alcoholic lie about the petty? To stay in practice. Alcoholism isn’t called “the Liar’s Disease” for nothing. Those confrontations never went well. I only wish I could have trusted then what I believe now. There’s not a chance those confrontations ever came from a place of malice; they were always rooted in love. However, I always heard their words as criticism, and as such, I reacted
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