I loved you ever since I laid my nearsighted peepers on your gorgeous, vintage frame. Even the eyeglasses specialist thought you were something special to behold. I knew you were the one to contain my vision correcting plastic. You would be there for me when I needed you most; driving to Mitsuwa, Hamilton, Barnes & Noble (where I would cease to use you once I read a book—I am sorry). Funny that I should mention Mitsuwa, dear Eyeglasses, for that was the catalyst that initiated our separation. I ache to know that you’re somewhere, sitting upon someone else’s greasy nose, them knowing that you are not fitting quite as right, that your power is hurting their eyes, their increasing resentment that you were not made for them, but for me. Yet, when I left you there on that library computer desk, it would seem rather that I did not require our bond, our teamwork, any longer, OH but I did! I do! I need you everyday and there is not a moment that goes by that I don’t regret getting up from that chair, that hour where learning if my friend was waiting for 30 minutes out side because of my lack of cellular signal was more important than feeling you on my face once again. Did I realize you were gone as soon as I got in the car heading to Mitsuwa? No, remorsefully. I complained about how I hated wasting time when it was unneeded. Now I wish I could waste that time again just to hold onto you once more. Maybe then I would remember to place you back where you rightfully belong; around my mind, and in my heart.
P.S. I bought a replacement of you, but please don’t think ill of me. I just really need to be able to see.
01/07/2010 - 02/09/2011