My friendships exist in silos. Each hangout is a feverish one-on-one where we share fries and eye contact, confessions, rants, gossip, and mutual attempts at amateur therapy. This patchwork of get-togethers structures my week: a Wednesday happy hour with one friend, a Saturday-morning walk-and-talk with another, a Sunday coffee date with a third. It’s exhilarating—we genuinely want to know how each other’s moms are doing. Some days, though, I feel strangely lonely. While my social life looks