Clark Kent - Man of Steel

On that day in January, when he sold his soul, he began a very slow, gradual, downhill slide back into the person he had so desperately wanted to leave behind. When he  moved back into  his old house and old life, that process quickly escalated. 

One of the most telling changes in him was his appearance.  It changed completely. His hair had always been one of his best features, I liked it not too short, it framed his face better and I loved running my fingers through it during our long nights of passion. But he started cutting it very short, which made it prone to cow licks, showed his thin spots and wasn't as flattering to the shape of his face. 

Perhaps the most peculiar change was that he started wearing glasses again after years of wearing contacts. He was pretty vain and never put his old glasses on, which like everything else he owned  when we met were ancient and out of style, with big black plastic rims, badly scratched and taped together.

If he ever did have to put them on he would be embarrassed. I told him that was silly and that I even thought he looked cute, in a nerdy, but sexy, Clark Kent kind of way. We looked at each other and smiled, looking forward to some fantasies about that later. That was how I saw him, kind of awkward and unsure on the outside but strong, and daring, and fun on the inside, a man of steel for his bravery in refusing to let go of this chance at true love and the life he had always dreamed of, for standing steadfastly beside me, and for wanting to be a better man and role model for his son.

The things I value in people have nothing to do with how they look or what they own, he knew that because I made sure he did, with my words and my actions, just like every person I come in contact with. I say kind things, I build them up, support and encourage them, I take time to help them and make them happy. What I did feel was sorry for him. I knew he hadn't replaced his glasses because of the money, which was always an issue in their house. The saddest part is that they had plenty of money.

It is one thing to be frugal but glasses are not a luxury item, anything to do with him seemed to be though, from what he constantly told me. I encouraged him to go to the doctor and get new glasses, because I knew it would make him feel better and because he deserved it, at the very least to have his prescription checked. He said when he got his bonus he would and finally when he had to take his son to the eye doctor he came back with a brand new pair.

And then he started wearing them all the time and when I asked him why, he hemmed and hawed and got that sad look on his face, saying they were expensive and it didn't go over well. 

In addition to these physical changes, his personality changed too, making the difference even more striking. Everyone noticed and remarked on it, just like they did when he fell in love with me and I brought him to life and into the world. Now they told him he looked sad and depressed, which he was.

One night when I was returning from out of town with a friend he escaped from his house by saying he was going to wal-mart or to check the mail, I don't remember which, he knew when I was supposed to return and was hoping to surprise me. It was dark out and when he pulled into the driveway we had no idea who it was, our friend  was shocked by how different he suddenly looked, she thought it was an old man and asked when he started wearing glasses.

His appearance changed because he couldn't stand what he had done. Couldn't stand the mistake he made and the lie he was living. Couldn't stand to be himself.  It was obvious to everyone, even him and we talked about it a lot actually.

He kept the glasses and the dour personality on for a long time, he needed them to do what he has done since being discovered by his wife; the awful lies, betraying and attacking me, the pretending with her every day. To go from feeling alive and free, passionate and inspired, loved and admired, or in his words "feeling like a man" - to once again repressing his true nature and desires, feeling bored, criticised and controlled, and less than a man.

Time has gone buy and he has done what he needed to do and slithered his way back, and now just as suddenly, he has started wearing contacts again. There is no mystery here. He is delving back into his old self, the old ways and habits he developed to cope with an unhappy, unfulfilled life, just like he said he knew he would if he didn't get out of there. A new job and people to be won over to make him feel like he is somebody, life back on the road, motels, bars and the desperate search for women to dull the pain and make him forget.

The only thing made of steel inside of him is his heart.