The leaves of fall had turned, and upstate New York was gorgeous as I left the Buffalo area heading for the Carolinas. I had finally had enough of this stupid obsession, and I resolved to take back control of my own life. Sure, when I found a site on the Internet devoted to the wearing of glasses I had fallen into the trap. It had made me realize that I was not totally crazy. There were others in the universe that felt the same way about glasses that I did.
I reveled in my knowledge with many postings on the site, helping others that were attracted to very strong lenses with advice on how to obtain them, using contact lens suppliers that didn't require prescriptions to ship the powers of contacts that were needed, both in high plus and high minus. I advised those that e mailed me on how to forge prescriptions for glasses, and how to figure roughly the right lens powers for the glasses. I was, in my mind, an important person on this scene. After all, I was sharing my knowledge, gained by trial and error, and in some cases a lot of cost, with a surprising number of others.
I began writing about my fantasies, and after submitting a few of the stories was surprised at the number of people that e mailed me telling me that they enjoyed reading my little stories. This fueled the fires, and I began churning out story after story. But, I was getting bored. Each new story was begging to seem like a rehash of the last one. I tried to think up new plot lines, but they all came back to the same subject matter. Gosh was I pathetic. I had to stop this nonsense.
I resolved that there would be no glasses worn on this trip at all. The pairs that I had brought would remain where they were stashed. I would not go hunting for any bespectacled ladies. This was the end. No more for me!
My resolve was strong. I successfully completed my trip to the Carolina's and was waiting for my return. I was having trouble finding the address, so I stopped at a gas station to buy a map. The lady behind the counter was wearing a pair of drop temple glasses in a fairly substantial minus prescription, but I resisted temptation, and gave her no more than a glancing look. The next morning I found I had to waste most of the day, so I headed for a Goodwill store I had noticed the night before. Not to do any glasses hunting - oh no, I was through with that aspect of my life.
So all I was looking for was something to read to pass the time away. I found a couple of novels, and while I couldn't resist looking around for old glasses, I felt fortunate that this store didn't have any on display. So, then I went on to the local WalMart. I found a couple of items that I wanted to purchase, and specifically looked for a cashier that didn't wear glasses. I spotted one that was quite pretty, and, even though the line was a bit long, I waited patiently.
As I got closer to the cashier, a cheerful voice sang out for me to come over here, and I would be looked after right away. I moved over a lane only to be greeted by a pretty young lady of about 21 or 22, wearing of all things a pair of nice small oval wire framed glasses with polycarbonate lenses in about a minus 8 or 9. But I did my best not to look. After all, I reasoned, she had just been sent to test my resolve.
I made it all the way back home without putting on a pair of glasses, and since I was going to be spending the next week with a close friend, who of course knew nothing about my obsession, I knew I was going to be able to kill this foolishness.
The week passed uneventfully. I didn't even see one pretty lady in glasses, and while the urge to wear glasses was still with me, I was firm in my position.
I returned home, and on checking the messages on my phones, I got one on my special line saying that my new glasses were ready. Shucks - I had forgotten I had ordered and paid for another pair a few weeks back Oh well, I would pick them up, and would than gather my whole collection up and offer them for sale on Lenslover's web site. Even though I was wasting the money, I had to end this foolishness. After all, I had started into this with my only intention of being able to meet ladies that wore glasses.
And so far the count was zero. I had not found even one lady that I could keep up a series of e mails with. They all fizzled out after only a few letters. I tried to reassure everyone that I intended no harm, but I probably came across too strong. And, I had yet to meet a lady that I could count as a friend that wore strong minus glasses.
Monday morning came, and I headed off about my business. I took only the contacts that I needed to be able to see through the new glasses, as well as an old pair of lower prescription glasses that I could wear in to the optical shop. I finished all my other business, and fitted the plus contacts into my eyes. They felt extremely comfortable.
I slowly placed the old glasses at the end of my nose, and slid them slowly towards the bridge. The blur disappeared into surprising clarity, and I was able to see my way to the optical shop. Things were a bit blurry with the old glasses, but when the optician brought me the new glasses, and I slid them onto my nose, everything came into focus. Gosh it felt good. But I was positive I was through with this aspect of my life. Specs4ever was going to disappear from the Internet, and maybe in a few months one of the other visitors to the site would ask in a posting if anyone had heard from me, but no one would have.
I made it back home, and put my glasses away. I turned on my computer to do some work, and thought that before I started I would just check my old hobby mail. Darn - a message from Lenslover. Another one from Spexman. And another from NeuroJoe. I would just answer these e-mails, and then I would delete my address and close things down. So I answered the e-mails, but I had asked a question of Lenslover. I had to wait for a reply, so I didn't delete anything just yet. To pass the time I thought I would just check in with the Internet site. Oh man, a couple of more people that wanted to do the glasses over contacts. I couldn't resist a small posting. After all I was already checked in to the site, and it wouldn't hurt anything.
I closed out the Internet, and went to my word processing program. I opened a blank page, and as hard as I tried not to, a story about a young girl with glasses started to fill the page. This would be the last story I wrote, so I went to the cupboard, and took out the strongest glasses I owned, along with the corresponding contact lenses. I wrote on and on, looking at the screen through thick myodiscs. Finally the story was finished, and I sent it off to Lenslover, who acts as my proofreader. But, I couldn't bring myself to remove the glasses and contacts, so I went on to do my necessary work. I finished what I absolutely had to do, but still couldn't bring myself to take off my glasses.
It was then I realized that I was too far gone. I was totally hooked again. My fingers rushed over the keyboard as I wrote this tale of an obsessive person trapped forever in a life of admiring, and desiring those who wore thick minus glasses. Why bother trying to quit anymore?