As best I can recall the last time I went out to a dance bar was when I was probably 19 years old, and all my friends wanted to hear the band and drink. I haven't actually danced (with the exception of weddings) since high school. Things have changed a lot since then.
The people who were there were very polite and well-bred. They were beautiful, gorgeous godlings who were dressed in uniformly expensive clothes. Men in baggy pants, women in tight ones. Everyone in skinny shirts showing lots of muscly flesh. They all had these glow in the dark sticks in their mouths, so that when they talked, their mouths flashed red, green, or blue. The music was a really great mix being electronically created on the spot by a lone man and his collection of mostly computer equipment. He has a gift. You couldn't help but move.
And move they did. The godlings gyrated their hips, and danced wildly with each other under the rapidly moving purple and red lights, darting in and out of the laser beams. They didn't look remotely human. It was probably the strangest night I've had in a long time.
I'm starting to get really worried about Forest, and scared at the same time. He doesn't seem to be in the exact same mood as earlier in the week, but now he's emotionally exhausted all the time, and doesn't eat anything. All he wants to do is sleep. He says he isn't depressed, just tired, and is starting to get annoyed at my constant inquiries into his unhappiness. I can't help but feel this is somehow my fault, but that's just an old habit of mine, and I'm pretty sure I have nothing to do with it. I'm desperate to know what's going on, and I miss my sweetheart. He's locked up in this shell of tiredness right now, and I just can't seem to release him. What's horribly frustrating is that I don't think there's anything I can do about it anyway.
Today I went to the nautilus room at MSU with Shelly to work out. We weren't there for long, but I'm physically tired from it, while my mind is running on extra endorphins like mad! I definitely want to go back. It's not a lot of fun, but it's not nearly as tedious as working with free weights, and the people there (while they looked like the godlings of last night's foray into the clubbing scene) were relatively nice.
I sent Forest a detailed email filled with all my newly-sworn honesty, and am now stuck waiting until later tonight when he will get a chance to read it. I told him just how worried I am about him, and how sad and scared his mood lately has made me feel. I'm trusting him explicitly, but feel like my soft little underbelly is somewhat exposed. I hope I wasn't wrong to send it.
