You're always with yourself, always. Because of this, you can only experience another person in the context of you being there. Put another way: you can never know what someone is like when you’re not there. Every read you have on another person is a read on them-with-you. Our presence changes social dynamics in ways we don’t realize or think about. If your friend always complains, it might be that they’re a complainy person. But it could mean they only complain around you because of unintentional things you do that incentivizes complaining. Maybe they complain to you because you give good advice. Or you listen well and make them feel more seen. Maybe their other friends cut them off or change the topic. This is what chemistry is. When we’re hanging out with someone and it feels like flow—fun, funny, effortless—it’s a dynamic we should notice more (and be grateful for). There’s something the other person is doing that allows the chemistry of close friendship spark. ([[The key to close friendships is proximity, repeated + unplanned interactions, and a safe space to confide in each other]].) Sodium and chlorine make salt. Sodium and water violently combust. Water, in all its beauty, is like, “Fucking sodium, so fucking violent.” Little does water know what it's contributing. This relates to getting and giving feedback, which is always warped because feedback is given as though it’s universal, but it’s also highly context dependent.