Yesterday.

"You're open," she says, her wide blue-grey eyes holding mine,

"I'm open."

"You're open, to me." She says, the beginnings of a smile breathing itself into her.

"I'm open to you." I repeat, her hands in mine, our eyes locked, the rest of the room fuzzing itself out.

"You're open, to me."

"I'm open to you." I answer.

"You're open, to me."

"I'm open," I pause, weighing the truth on my tongue," to you."

"You're open to me."

"I'm open to you."

"You're open, to me." she repeats.

beat.

"You like that I'm open to you." I decide, smiling.

Wait. We wait, wait together for the fullness of that truth to fill all that's left of the space between us.

"I like that you're open to me." She decides; an answer, a reply.

"You like that I'm open to you."

"I like that you're open to me."

Repetition;

It builds you, breaks you.

Trains us such that our default, will be forming connections.

"And when you return to the real world, you will be intolerant of dishonesty." Jenny warned us.

Because being actors starts off with being very honest. To yourself, and to moments and to whatever it is that is around you.

Unfortunately, back in the real world, most people dance around half truths all the time.

Unfortunately, back in the real world,

people hardly ever make connections with each other or with their partners that are half as real as the connections we made yesterday.

December 1st 2010, Wednesday.

11:25pm