{"title":"Chapter 9 — Application Accepted \/ Trial","description":"\u003cp\u003eHe's not a candidate anymore. He's a trial.\u003c\/p\u003e","products":[{"product_id":"letter-034-traffic-light-green","title":"Letter 034 — Traffic Light, Green","description":"\u003cp\u003eDear me,\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAs every self-respecting girl does on a first date, so did I: makeup, high heels, and the previous night's hangover.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAll dressed up and twenty minutes late, I saw him sitting across from the underground station with the most hideous red baseball cap, waiting for me.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eI waved and crossed the street.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eI wasn't nervous.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eI guess that's the effect of knowing he likes me more than I like him.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe hug came across my waist before my arrival did.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eI felt instantly desired.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAnd it felt good.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eI couldn't wait to stop before we got to the place and light a cigarette.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eI needed my best friend.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eNot for support.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eJust to enjoy it with me.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe couldn't stop looking at me.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eI wore the black trousers.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe leather ones.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe ones that hide the legs I hate so much.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMy dark hair was falling over the dropped-shoulder tee I was wearing, with pagan symbols and a voodoo doll on the back.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eJust so he knows what he's getting into.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eTotally opposite from the blond-haired, blue-eyed, Viking-looking guy waiting for me on the other side.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eI guess the only matching thing we had was the black outfits and the punk\/minimal outfits we were both wearing.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMost men would have already been scared.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWith him, it went totally the opposite way.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAfter some pointless chit-chat and small talk, we dived right into it.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGames.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eDrinks.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAnd a few compliments later from men — well, not towards me.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eTowards him.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eApparently, he was the main act and I was the supporting role in the British movie of dating.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\"Great beard, man.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\"Nice tattoos, dude.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAll I heard in my direction was a warning to sleep with one eye open when, during a game of throwing axes, I turned out to be fabulously vicious and very good at it.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eYet he didn't really seem to move his attention from me.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMe only.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eStaying close.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eUsing every chance — or creating one — to touch my waist or put my hair behind my ear.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eI didn't mind.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAnd the few \"You look really good\" casually sugary sweets he was feeding me weren't exactly something I was going to complain about.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eNeither was the kiss at the traffic light before we crossed the street on the way out.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eNot very passionate.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut good.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAnd I could tell how much he had waited for it.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe even boarded the Tube my way to walk me home.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWe sat on a bench, legs open across each other, mine on top of his, you know, like teenagers who have nowhere to go to do the job.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWe had somewhere to go.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut I didn't want to.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eI felt tired and was more in a hugging mood than anything sexual.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWhich didn't exactly apply to him, as I could feel his hard abs — and not only those — while he was pulling my body next to his.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\"I don't care if we have sex today,\" he said.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\"I'm glad, because we won't.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut I couldn't not be provocative either, so I said, right into his eyes while kissing him:\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\"So you don't want to fuck me?\"\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHis reply was something I hadn't heard a man say before, even when he was in love with me.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAnd yet...\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003esomething wasn't just clicking.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eEven though his last words to me were:\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\"No fucking. More of a love-making. Good night. I can't wait to see you again. You are so much cooler than I imagined.\"\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Love Letters To Myself","offers":[{"title":"Default","offer_id":58225472045387,"sku":null,"price":1.49,"currency_code":"GBP","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1064\/4802\/7979\/files\/letter-034-cover.png?v=1787947188"},{"product_id":"letter-035-confusion-level-unknown","title":"Letter 035 — Confusion Level Unknown","description":"\u003cp\u003eDear me,\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe next day I woke up with the uncoolest urgency for water and to stay in bed all day, which was absolutely impossible.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSo I jumped into some not-so-clean clothes, baggy jeans and a favourite oversized tee, and with a coffee and sandwich, I boarded the train to Cheltenham, which was the reason I was in England at all, and most importantly, in London.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe morning started with my bestie between my lips and continued with my laptop in the middle of the carriage of the train, with my letters shining ready on my keyboard.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eYes, I know it's not yet Sunday.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut give me a break.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eDear me, I need you now!\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eI was satisfied with the date.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eEven though that romantic hit-by-a-hammer feeling I usually have after I know I've got it bad for someone wasn't there, this really was mature.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eI hate me for saying this.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eI swore I would never grow into a mature type of love.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAt least not the ones I see around me.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eOr are they mature?\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAnother question mark that needs an investigation.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt was 10 a.m. when I arrived at Cheltenham Spa, and I already had three messages and two pictures with a tongue sticking out of his mouth and a fist folded into a rock-and-roll gesture.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt's not that it wasn't flattering.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt was.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut...\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eDon't you have something to do?\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHis availability was putting him in a very unattractive spot.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eI mean, we are all adults here.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eI don't expect you to have it all figured out.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eI mean, who does?\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut babe...\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ewhat are you doing all day, every day?\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eI didn't even get to that question last night.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eI was so willing to test this as a having-fun, action-date instead of the interview one, that I may have left with more not knowing than I imagined.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt was still nice hearing from him, but the messages turned more into:\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eOkay, let me have a moment to myself.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLet me think.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLet me enjoy what happened last night before we jump into tomorrow.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eI remember something he said last night.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAgain, not many people speak like this on a first date.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe said that he was really looking forward to having a wife and a family one day, although he is happy without it.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThat usually is a woman's way of finding out what the man thinks about it.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSo, if it was the other way around, I wonder why he mentioned it.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBecause I am pretty sure I already told him that in my future I don't see kids.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAnd, to be fair, I'm not even thinking about a relationship.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt was something unusual in the whole feeling about him.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut it wasn't that dreamy, lost girl imagining what it will be like in ten years.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eActually, for the first time in my life, I know what and how I want to be in ten years.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut he didn't seem to have it figured out.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWell...\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eI didn't know either at his age.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut, to be fair,\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eI'm not his age anymore.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAnd it isn't fair to the woman I am becoming to only be with a man because he suits the woman I was back then...\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ebut really needed him to be.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSo...\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eis that for me?\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eOr for her?\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Love Letters To Myself","offers":[{"title":"Default","offer_id":58225475060043,"sku":null,"price":1.49,"currency_code":"GBP","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1064\/4802\/7979\/files\/letter-035-cover.png?v=1787947165"},{"product_id":"letter-036-toy-boy","title":"Letter 036 — Toy Boy","description":"\u003cp\u003eDear me,\u003cbr\u003eI love when the light finds its way to fall over a certain spot and the sun gives it the incredible power of making it feel special.\u003cbr\u003eA chosen one.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThis is exactly how the light had made the summer house of my client look, while I am sitting on the red sofa right across with my laptop and the last week's events.\u003cbr\u003eIt is relaxing here.\u003cbr\u003eAt least at that time of the day.\u003cbr\u003eShe is engaged with her iPad, and I have the peace and quiet and the noon sun performing right in front of me.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe kisses and the hand-holding are haunting me more than any sexual thought crossing my mind.\u003cbr\u003eMoving to lying down in bed and just hugging.\u003cbr\u003eI am not even getting turned on thinking about him.\u003cbr\u003eThe only orgasm I am close to these days is the quiet one — my soul, finally exhaling, finally held.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWow.\u003cbr\u003eWas it that long ago that a mind could undress me faster than a hand ever could?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMy attraction towards men has always started purely sexual.\u003cbr\u003eThere has always been some fantasy behind it, some idea running the show before the body even showed up to perform.\u003cbr\u003eWhile here, with him, it isn't about looks anymore.\u003cbr\u003eIt never used to not be about looks.\u003cbr\u003eWow.\u003cbr\u003eSince when did that change?\u003cbr\u003eI am only talking to myself, after all.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eIt isn't that he's stupid.\u003cbr\u003eIt's that there's no ambition running underneath the surface — nothing simmering, nothing being built.\u003cbr\u003eA gorgeous house with the lights off in every room.\u003cbr\u003eNo dreams he's chasing. No goal pulling him forward. Just a body standing still and calling it peace.\u003cbr\u003eAnd when I am constantly sharpening my own knives, that kind of stillness in a man doesn't soothe me — it starves me.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHis stories are so poorly formed that most of the time, the moment he opens his mouth, I'm already bored before the first sentence lands — foreplay performed by someone who skipped straight to the end and forgot I was still in the room.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eIt wasn't as noticeable on the first date.\u003cbr\u003eBefore that we had only been chatting, and not everyone knows how to seduce a woman through a screen.\u003cbr\u003eAnd the date itself was more activity than conversation — hands and adrenaline doing the talking neither of us had to do.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBut afterwards, I started noticing I can't actually think next to him. And thinking, for me, has always been the first thing that gets wet.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAnd the protection he offers — the way he holds my hand, makes me feel like a woman, looks after my basic needs, gives me his jacket without me asking — that's real. That's not nothing.\u003cbr\u003eBut a jacket has never once made me come.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI know.\u003cbr\u003eI know.\u003cbr\u003eI am horrible.\u003cbr\u003eBut am I?\u003cbr\u003eIs it really horrible on my end to measure myself more and to want more?\u003cbr\u003eNo.\u003cbr\u003eI don't think so.\u003cbr\u003eI've done my share of charity towards men, claiming that they are more than I deserve.\u003cbr\u003eBut this year, on Sunday 036 of 52, the tables have turned.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWait.\u003cbr\u003eWhen I said the tables have turned, I saw myself on the side of the guy who wants the girl only to fulfil a part of himself he needs once in a while, simply because he enjoys how much she enjoys him.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHoly shit.\u003cbr\u003eSo this is what it's like — to hold the leash and still feel nothing pulling back.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAt this point, I feel like I am battling with myself.\u003cbr\u003eI may consider sleeping with him anyway. Using his body the way mine has been used — as inventory, not as a person.\u003cbr\u003eBut would that be fair to him?\u003cbr\u003eThen again, isn't he old enough to sign his own contract?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eShould I let this guy go and move on, or should I take full advantage of him, the way I've been taken advantage of so many times?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eDear me, the worst part is that the battle is between you and me.\u003cbr\u003eTwo of a kind.\u003cbr\u003eOne of us has to step back.\u003cbr\u003eI feel like you're on one of my shoulders, telling me that using someone is wrong.\u003cbr\u003eAnd then there's the other one — the one I'm becoming — doing the same thing, but not feeling nearly as guilty about it, like guilt is a language she stopped needing to be fluent in.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eTo be honest, the thought she puts in my head — creating a toy for myself for once instead of being one — is starting to turn me on more than he ever has.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMaybe it isn't only about what a person gives us.\u003cbr\u003eMaybe it's about what we don't realise we give them back, even in the version where we're using them.\u003cbr\u003eIf someone has been awakening something in me — even something as unglamorous as feeling protected — what right do I have to dismiss what he might be gaining from being wanted by me too?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAnd I, somewhere in between — half hunger, half conscience — am beginning to wonder...\u003cbr\u003ewhich crossroads do I take?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAnd then, almost on cue...\u003cbr\u003ehe gets hot again.\u003cbr\u003eNot because anything about him actually changed.\u003cbr\u003eHe didn't suddenly grow a spine, or a plan, or a better story to tell over dinner.\u003cbr\u003eI just handed him a fantasy to stand inside of, and he filled it out better than he ever filled a silence.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSo maybe I was never attracted to him at all.\u003cbr\u003eMaybe I was attracted to the plot I decided to write him into.\u003cbr\u003eGive me a story, and I will always find a man willing to play a part in it — mine, not his.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWhich means the real question was never about him.\u003cbr\u003eIt was always about which fantasy I'm willing to keep casting real men in.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eFor sex, looks and a good enough fantasy will always do the job.\u003cbr\u003eThey did tonight.\u003cbr\u003eStarted with looks, once. Then I convinced myself it had to be intellectual, or it didn't count. Now apparently a fantasy alone can do the undressing.\u003cbr\u003eAll three are true. None of them are the whole truth.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBecause depth doesn't get cast. It doesn't wear a costume well and call it enough.\u003cbr\u003eDepth needs a man who can hold the room even after I stop writing his lines for him.\u003cbr\u003eAnd the moment I go quiet and wait for him to carry it himself...\u003cbr\u003ethe glove doesn't fit.\u003cbr\u003eIt never did.\u003cbr\u003eI just have really good tailors.\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Love Letters To Myself","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":58290463048011,"sku":null,"price":1.49,"currency_code":"GBP","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1064\/4802\/7979\/files\/letter-036-cover.png?v=1787947111"},{"product_id":"letter-037-heads-i-play-tails-i-lose","title":"Letter 037 — Heads I Play, Tails I Lose","description":"\u003cp\u003eDear me,\u003cbr\u003eSunday 037 of 52.\u003cbr\u003eI want to talk about the other side of the coin.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBecause last week I stood at the crossroads asking which fantasy I was willing to cast a real man into, and I never actually asked myself the harder question:\u003cbr\u003eAm I capable of playing the part I cast him for?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eNot wanting to be wanted. Wanting, myself, for once.\u003cbr\u003eCalling when I feel like it. Not calling when I don't. Never quite rejecting him, never quite accepting him either — just leaving him exactly where I've decided he should stay: available, uncertain, mine on a schedule only I keep.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eIs that a woman I've become, or a woman I'm trying on?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp style=\"text-align:center\"\u003e—\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe knows everything about me.\u003cbr\u003eMy ambitions. What I'm building. How hard I work for it, and why.\u003cbr\u003eAnd somehow, knowing all of that, he doesn't just tolerate it — he wants all of it.\u003cbr\u003eHe looks at me like I'm the full package. Wife material, he actually said once, half-joking, fully not.\u003cbr\u003eBeautiful. Capable. Someone worth building something real with.\u003cbr\u003eHe sees the whole woman.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWhich makes what I've done to him so much harder to excuse.\u003cbr\u003eBecause I've reduced him to a food package. Something I reach for because it's there, because it's convenient, because it doesn't ask too much of me to consume it.\u003cbr\u003eHe's offering a whole plate.\u003cbr\u003eI keep treating him like a snack.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI don't actually want to see him.\u003cbr\u003eSeeing him means hearing him talk, and I've already said what that does to me.\u003cbr\u003eSo I keep him just out of focus. A shape I can want without having to listen to.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp style=\"text-align:center\"\u003e—\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHere's the actual question I came here to ask.\u003cbr\u003eCan I turn him into a fantasy — a real one, the kind that gets me somewhere — so I can use him the way I've spent a lifetime being used?\u003cbr\u003eOr does that idea simply not fit me?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBecause if I'm honest — and Sunday is the only day I still am — I know exactly what turns me on, and it has never once been the sound of my own voice giving orders.\u003cbr\u003eIt's a man's voice, low and certain, telling me I'm his.\u003cbr\u003eNot asking. Telling.\u003cbr\u003eIt's being owned out loud — claimed in a sentence, not just in bed.\u003cbr\u003eIt's verbal provocation. Being talked into wanting something before a single hand moves. Being told what I am, what I'm about to become for the next hour, and feeling my whole body agree before my mind gets a vote.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe doesn't offer any of that.\u003cbr\u003eHe offers safety. He offers a jacket. He offers \"you look really good\" like a compliment card handed over at checkout.\u003cbr\u003eNone of it commands me.\u003cbr\u003eNone of it owns me.\u003cbr\u003eNone of it makes my skin remember what it's like to be spoken into submission.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSo who exactly am I, sitting here trying to build a fantasy out of a man who has never once made my body sit up and listen?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAm I testing myself — genuinely — the way becoming asks me to test everything that crosses my path, including my own assumptions about what I need?\u003cbr\u003eOr am I forcing myself onto someone who was never built to hold what I actually want, because somewhere along the way I got overwhelmingly confident that I'm capable of so much more than I ever admit out loud — capable of wanting less, needing less, being fine with less, if I just decide hard enough?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp style=\"text-align:center\"\u003e—\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI think that's what unsettles me most.\u003cbr\u003eNot whether it would be fair to him.\u003cbr\u003eNot whether he'd survive it, poor, sweet, badly-spoken thing that he is.\u003cbr\u003eBut whether the girl on this side of the coin is actually me —\u003cbr\u003eor just the last costume I haven't tried on yet, hanging at the back of a closet that's already full — worn once, out of spite, just to prove I could.\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Love Letters To Myself","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":58290541265227,"sku":null,"price":1.49,"currency_code":"GBP","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1064\/4802\/7979\/files\/letter-037-cover.png?v=1787947088"}],"url":"https:\/\/loveletterstomyself.co\/collections\/chapter-ix-application-accepted-trial.oembed","provider":"Love Letters To Myself","version":"1.0","type":"link"}