Late One Night, Part Three
I gave it a couple of days to let Dean sort out his thoughts, and I waited for him to make the next move. Yes, I was being manipulative, but you do what you know. After ten years of living with an exceptionally manipulative man, I learned every trick in the book. It's all about timing.
Sure enough, Dean phoned me at home. He'd been discreetly avoiding me coming and going from the store.
"Hi Sandi. Guess you heard the news, huh?"
I acted ignorant. So he told me that Alessa had told him it wasn't working out, which he claimed was a total surprise to him. To me it was obvious they were incompatible, and he was fooling himself that they were. Anyway, I thought she was boring, and I told him so, but he didn't comment.
"So," he continued "Is that offer still open, if I'm left on the shelf, you will be waiting for me?"
The correct thing to do at that point was to play hard to get. But I didn't have the patience. The times we'd spent together had been wonderful, and I knew they could be even better. So I told him we should give it a try.
After 8 dates, which had been otherwise just fine, he still hadn't worn his glasses while he was with me. Not only that, since we'd become a couple he hadn't worn them at work. Not even once. Everything was fine, we had fun, we had great sex, we had deep talks, it was going really well, except that this was my glasses man, and he never wore them. So now what? Come right out with it? I couldn't. I was just too embarrased. I had no idea what his reaction would be, and I couldn't chance it. He was perfect in every other way, and no matter what, I didn't want to lose him.
Then one day, out the blue he suddenly announced he was going in for LASIK surgery. I was absolutely mortified. I wanted to scream "No don't!" and lock him in my home to prevent it! But I had to deal with this carefully. So I tried to stay calm.
"Why would you do that? It's risky."
"Oh, not that risky now, they're very experienced."
"Even so, surgery, ewww, sounds horrible, having someone cut into your eyes."
"It's better than the constant nuisance of contact lenses."
This was my opening of course, but I had to phrase it just right.
"Well, you always have the option of wearing glasses, not too uncomfortable....." and I held my breath.
"But I HATE wearing glasses Sandi, I always have done."
That was bad news. If he'd simply worn them for vanity, all I had to do was say I loved a man in glasses and it'd be happy ever after, but somehow I had to overcome his ingrained mental block. And fast. I had 3 weeks.
The best part was however that prior to the surgery he was not supposed to wear his contacts. That was why he'd told me, I guess, to warn me he'd be wearing glasses. Thank goodness at least for that, or he might just have gone and had it done as a surprise, and it would be too late!
Sure enough the next day at the store he showed up in his glasses, and he looked FANTASTIC. I just greeted him as usual, trying not to rush into my worship, but when we went out for lunch I told him earnestly
"Actually you look really good in glasses."
No reply. Nothing AT ALL. Not as much as a forced smile. He just changed the subject. This was going to be much harder than I thought. So I let it go, and left it for 3 whole days. Then it was Friday and he came to my place for the weekend. He certainly seemed uncomfortable in glasses. He adjusted them almost constantly, which I loved to watch, but I didn't like knowing he was unhappy.
You are, I'm sure, thinking that if I really loved him as much as I claimed to, that I'd simply enjoy my three weeks, and then be happy for him when he had his surgery. You are also thinking that I didn't really love him for who he was, but for his glasses.
Well, perhaps you spoke too loud. Perhaps he heard you.
I waited until we had just had some incredible sex, and he was telling me how much he loved me, when I next tried. He had taken his glasses off when we went to bed, and I had told him he didn't have to, but he ignored the remark. So, when he was laying there in the afterglow I approached it fairly directly.
"Dean, I don't understand. Why do you hate your glasses so much when they look so good on you? I really love you in them..................
A very deep sigh.
Foolishly, I continued.
"OK, I can understand they are a bit annoying, but if you liked my hair long, I'd keep it that way for you..........."
He laughed now, and it wasn't a kind laugh.
"It's really not the same thing st all Sandi.....anyway, forget it."
And with that he rolled over and went to sleep.
I didn't know how to proceed from this point, but time was running out. I put it off a few days, but I had to try again. For now I would leave aside my pleas, but I at least wanted to know why he hated them so much. Perhaps I needed some help. As always, my scheming little brain dragged other people into my plots. Poor Cassie was my foil this time. I arranged to meet both of them at the bar after work on Friday to celebrate by third year in business. Cassie had been set up to interrogate Dean on his forthcoming surgery, and for reasons I don't understand, when she asked him she got a straight response!
"I'm just tired of being dependant on them. I started wearing glasses when I was 12, and everyone made fun of me. I got contacts as soon as I could, but it's still a constant nuisance. I've been looking forward to being free of corrective lenses for years, and finally I got the cash together. I can't wait!"
With that his face lit up into a smile and he propsed a toast to his forthcoming surgery. How could I celebrate? I must have looked horrified. I KNEW I was supposed to be happy for him, but I couldn't even bring myself to pretend. Suddenly I felt tears welling up in my eyes, and I quickly got up and walked out. I felt a fool, but I had to go, I just had to. I drove home and cried myself to sleep.
I had no idea what would come of this. I just waited for Dean to call, but he didn't. The weekend was hell. I stayed home waiting for that call, and by Sunday I could stand it no longer. I just got in the car and drove to his apartment. He came to the door, in his glasses of course, and all I could feel was desire for him. But his face was cold.
"Well," he said "I guess we better get this over with."
My heart was sinking. Of course, I knew what was coming. He wasn't stupid, and he was a man with feelings.
"I'm sorry if I won't be the man you want me to be after my surgery Sandi. I'm sorry because I can only be me. I can't be a toy for you, a perfect toy in glasses."
Of course I broke down, and of course he held me. We'd had such a wonderful time together, but I also understood why he was breaking it off now. He was right of course. I would forever resent him taking away the part of him I loved the most. And he would always know that. We were doomed. It was hopeless. I left him, and went away to life without him.
Dean took a week off work after his surgery. I hadn't expected that, but perhaps he was in more discomfort than he expected. My dark side wanted that to be true. All my feelings for him were a troubled mixture of desire and resentment, and always would be. I felt that everything had just fallen apart, and it couldn't get any worse.
But it could.
Dean's surgery didn't worked out right. For some reason not only could they not correct his vision, but the damage done in the attempt prevents him from wearing contacts. He has to wear glasses, just as before, and always will. Now I see him in them all the time. He looks utterly desirable. He is friendly, he'll wave and chat to me, but that's all. The one joy in my miserable life is seeing him in his glasses. But constantly seeing him, just as I want him, and not being able to have him is a daily torture. I guess it serves me right.
