Here's a paragraph from my boy-friend-in-laws's blog:
In my own case, my close metamour (he tells people I'm his "boyfriend-in-law") is a bit neuro-atypical and wired for Radical Honesty. When the four of us are together he'll sometimes burst out with "Alan, you're babbling again! Stop babbling!" or "You talk really well when you don't know what you're talking about." He's called me his best friend. Many people would drop him; many have. I find his blurt-it-out honesty only slightly bruising and actually refreshing — because I always know where things stand. I know that if he's not expressing annoyance, I don't have to worry about any hidden lurking problems.I guess he's talking about me. Clearly I am neuro-atypical, in that I have multiple sclerosis (MS), but I am pretty sure I am not wired, except after drinking a pint of coffee. I don't like to think of honesty as a neurological condition, but rather as a deliberate choice of habit. I want to affirm my significance as a conscious rational reagent between a micro- and a macrocosm ineluctably constructed upon the incertitude of the void [1].
As for many people dropping me, I haven't noticed it. It might be more accurate to say that many rejected immediately any thought of picking me up. I have lived with the same woman for five decades, and I take pride in the fact that I still have occasional friendly communication with women who were more intimately involved with me more than four decades ago.
