"They’re what?"
"They’re psilocybin mushrooms."
"Why do you have so many of them?"
"I’m just saving them."
"Do you eat them?"
"Yes, I used to. Yes. Sometimes I do."
"Let’s meditate together," Jules says. "Start from om and go crazy?"
"Ok."
So we sit face-to-face, and we put our hands on our laps, and we sing. We kind of start off humming, then we sing. It’s full-on singing, and I can really feel the connection.
Jules lies me down, and we do body work. She pulls out the Alexander block—this foam brick that you put under your back while you meditate? She stretches me..pushes my shoulders down. That’s what I really need to work on, this crab-style slouching that I do. Jules makes fun of me when I walk.
Then I do her. I basically just give her a massage, but she loves it.
"Do you know what you were doing to me?"
"I could feel the connection," I say.
"No," she says. "Did you know, while you were doing that, what you were doing to me?"
"Yeah," I say. "When I touch your body..I listen. With my hands."
"Did you ever go to school for massage?" she says.
"No. I just feel it out, you know. It’s like not even between you and me, it’s just my hands..and your back..you know, your body..and my body..just..talking to each other."
We’re sitting like platonic friends. We might not have ever made love.
"That’s what it’s like to me too," she says. "I..feel..we’re really connected."
"I know." I say it quietly. I feel it too.