You happen to like yourself, he thinks wryly, right. Sure, that's... definitely a concept that may or may not be true. He honestly isn't sure — does he like himself? He doesn't hate himself anymore, at least not most of the time. There are worse people, more annoying people, people with shittier habits or morals or opinions. There are also definitely better people, who are less annoying, less crazy, less occasionally brain-dead.

Ultimately, he decides with a small amount of pleasant surprise, he's pretty okay. Totally average. He likes himself well enough that he's totally cool being alone with himself, and that's a pretty nice thing to learn today.

"I think you're probably right, although I think... putting on a show or not, most people are just kind of exhausting in general." And then he realizes the possibly insulting implication of this, and quickly backpedals, "I mean, you seem alright so far. Not all that exhausting. Mostly kind of nice. Just- for the record. Although I could be wrong, you could turn out to be, like, a serial killer that wears people's skin or something, but- you don't seem like one yet. So that's... cool."