I know we talked at the restaurant about taking our relationship to the next level.

But there’s something I need to ask you that I couldn’t ask there: Do you want my body?

Well, thank you. I think my body’s “a vision sent from beyond to tempt the men of the world” too. But that’s not what I meant.

Do you want to have this body - to own my legs, arms, hips, breasts? Wake up to see my reflection in the mirror? Live as - be - Cassie?

Because that’s what will happen if we have sex.

Okay, I guess laughing isn’t the worst response you could have, but hear me out.

When I told you I hadn’t had sex in a while, I left out that the last time I did have sex, I wasn’t Cassie; I was Mark.

I don’t remember much about that night - I was drunk, and the woman I met was hot and eager. We went to my place, we fucked, and I woke up alone, in this body. My side table had a dress, Cassie’s driver’s license, and a note: “Sorry about this. You can get your body back if you have sex with a man. Masturbation won’t work, oral won’t work, sex with a woman won’t work. Trust me, I tried all three.”

Whoever Cassie was before apparently wanted to get away before I knew who they turned back to.

For a couple hours, I thought about how I could trick someone into a quickie so I could get on with my life. But then I realized two things.

First, I didn’t mind being Cassie. It was jarring to be in a woman’s body, and I’d need to buy new clothes, but it wasn’t bad. I worked from home, didn’t have anyone who expected me to be visibly Mark, and had an opportunity to be someone else, at least for a while. Besides, my haste to be a man again was probably fueled by toxic masculinity.

Second, I wasn’t able to think of a scenario where I could trick someone into sex and pass on… whatever this was… without consent. It just felt wrong.

So I watched some makeup tutorials and learned how to walk and drive in heels, and went on with my life.

Then I met you, and I knew I wanted to be with you, but couldn’t until I thought you wouldn’t be scared off by the truth.

What do you think?

Okay. I get it. I know it's a lot. You can just hand me my purse and I’ll go.

What’s that? “It’s a lot” isn’t a “no”?

Well then, help me out of this dress and into your bed, and we’ll talk about this more in the morning… Cassie.