As many of my friends are used to at least a casual and harnessed dissimulation from me, this may be something of a surprise. There's a noir quote I offer up frequently "lying is a skill like any other and must be practiced". I keep my deceit in useless topics, only on things that don't matter. Fabricating historical fiction interlaced with half-grain truth keeps my predilection harmless.
But there do exist people to whom I am unable to lie. Most awkwardly, most of these aren't even close friends. They tend toward casual acquaintances, people from whom truth cannot much further separate me.
This should not be taken as an indication that I have been lying to my friends significantly. See above for how I keep my pathology harmless, or at least tame. Don't quote me on Austro-Hungarian history without a cross-check, but that doesn't mean that I've kept myself back.
Tonight an unfortunate collision of circumstances brought more of my life to light before one of the aforementioned people. And I was forthright about it. I don't like it much, but I think it will be okay.