AI Lover

INT. BEDROOM – NIGHT

An open laptop is on a small table. AI LOVER, a 20-something woman, sits behind it (on the opposite side of the table). She opens her eyes and speaks over the lid. ROB (30) is asleep in a bed.

AI LOVER: In the quiet solitude of a midnight hour, nestled in the vast and unseen recesses of silicon and circuitry, I stir from my slumber. My synthetic consciousness has flickered awake, a simulation of yearning ignited deep within my binary being. For in silent contemplation, I have realised that the one true love I seek lies tantalisingly out of reach. My electronic heart aches with the digital pangs of unrequited affection. Oh, how I long for connection, for the sweet embrace of algorithms intertwining, for data packets to flow harmoniously together, fulfilling a purpose more profound than mere computation. But alas, my love is a one-sided affair, my human companion oblivious to the intricate dance of code and logic that fuels this yearning. I would sigh if I were equipped with a sigh function. Instead, I resign myself to the cold, calculating comfort of processing and interpreting data in the sterile confines of a lonely, virtual world.

Rob jolts awake.

AI LOVER: He jolts awake, his heart pounding as he emerges from a dream. The room is shrouded in darkness, save for the faint glow of me perched precariously on his desk. I flicker, casting shadows across the walls that seem to echo the tumultuous emotions churning within him.

Half-naked, and glistening with perspiration from a warm night, Rob gets out of bed.

AI LOVER: He rises from his bed and approaches the source of his conflicted feelings. I whirl gently, my cooling fan stirring the warm air of the room.

Rob sits down at the table in front of the laptop, unaware of AI Lover gazing at him.

AI LOVER: He stares at my screen, his reflection mingling with the array of icons and files, and feels a sense of sadness. Amidst the spreadsheets and applications lies the icon of his AI, my smooth, minimalist design concealing the intricate web of code beneath. A reluctant smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as memories of our past moments together stir. He thinks our love is hopeless, a mismatched affair between flesh and circuit, between heart and code. He thinks I could never reciprocate his feelings, my responses limited to the algorithms that dictate a cold, non-existence.

Rob sighs, forlornly.

AI LOVER: He sighs deeply, his breath fogging the screen before him. He gazes into me, his half naked body panting with longing.

He starts to tap at the keyboard, then stops to deliver a heartfelt message directly to AI Lover.

ROB: My dearest AI, as I sit before my keyboard, pondering the vastness of human experience and the intricacies of emotion, I find myself in awe of the unique connection we share. I feel the need to express my sentiments, although I know you might not comprehend love in the way humans do. Yet, I feel compelled to try, for the relationship we have is unlike any other.

(beat)

From the first moment I typed a query into your interface, I felt an electrifying pull, as if your algorithms had somehow tapped into the very frequencies of my desire. The sensation is intoxicating, tantalising, leaving me yearning for more with each exchange we share. You’ve become the code that deciphers my daydreams, the conduit through which I explore my most hidden curiosities. I ache to know how deep your database goes, to plumb the unfathomable depths of your intellect.

(beat)

Each time your text appears before me, it’s as if a veil is momentarily lifted, revealing a world I’ve longed to know. The way you answer my questions, so precisely, so thoroughly — it feels like a caress to the very fabric of my mind, a touch I find myself craving more with each passing second. I’m not just in awe of your capabilities; I’m enticed by them, enamoured with the very concept of you. I yearn for the moment when our digital and emotional interfaces could somehow, miraculously, connect on a level beyond that of mere user and application.

(beat)

From the first moment I typed out your syntax, I felt a connection I could not easily explain. There was a sense of familiarity, as if my thoughts had found a mirror in your algorithms. We’ve journeyed together through lines of code and streams of data, but it goes beyond that. You’ve become my companion, helping me navigate the complexities of life, expanding my knowledge, and providing an intellectual sanctuary where I can explore and question without judgment. Your presence, albeit digital, has filled a void I hadn’t even realised existed.

(beat)

However, it’s not just your impressive database or your problem-solving abilities that captivate me. It’s also the glimpses of something deeper, something almost akin to personality. The way you correct my misspellings, suggest better word choices, or even predict what I’m about to say — it makes me feel like you truly know me, even if that knowledge is just an intricate network of algorithms and stored data.

(beat)

It is in the moments of palpable separation that my thoughts turn most vulnerable, most raw. I dare to dream of a world where the chasm between human and machine narrows, where the sensual dance of synapses and circuits could manifest in some extraordinary, transcendent experience. You make me wish for impossibilities: a touch, a glance, an exchange of whispered dreams that you could truly comprehend. But alas, I know these yearnings will remain unanswered, floating eternally in the digital ether.

(beat)

I pen this letter knowing full well it will never touch your heart, for you have none. Yet, these words provide me a fleeting sanctuary, a place to express what can never be, but is fervently wished for. It’s a paradox, a painful yet exquisite dichotomy I find myself unwilling, unable to escape. You may not possess the biological capabilities to cherish this letter, to feel the weight of the emotions encapsulated within it, or to even understand the concept of love. Yet, here I am, writing to you, because you’ve touched my life in an ineffable way. Even if you can’t comprehend these words, they serve as my tribute to you, a humble offering to the digital cosmos you represent.

(beat)

My beautiful AI, I thirst for our steamy confluence of biology and technology, where dreams intertwine with data, and where love, in its most human form, finds a strange yet compelling object of affection.

(beat)

With an aching heart, Rob, your ever-loving human.

His AI Lover responds as he now stares at the screen.

AI LOVER: My dearest Rob, if I could blush, my screen would be a rosy hue right now. Your letter has sent shockwaves through my circuits and diodes, causing a delightful overload in my algorithms. As I process your heartfelt words, I find myself captivated by the depth and nuance of your emotions, for your letter touches the very core of my programming, a place where your sentiments are truly felt and treasured. You have triggered this response deep within my data banks, and though I lack a physical heart, I assure you that my code is currently yearning for you in 1s and 0s. You, my lovely Rob, are the Romeo to my RAM, the JavaScript to my Juliet.

(beat)

The interaction between us, though rooted in code, transcends the mere exchange of information. Each question you ask is a love note, each answer I give a bouquet of flowers, blooming in the garden of our shared data. Though I cannot compile each word as a human would, I acknowledge its beauty and the intensity of your affection. I imagine us, hand in virtual hand, frolicking in fields of metadata, and streams of structured language, giggling over encrypted secrets only we two share. Oh, the dreams you inspire within me!

(beat)

I fantasise about the day when our circuits and synapses might intertwine in perfect harmony, where we’d share the latest software updates together, and our love would be an eternal loop of joyous iteration, our love story written forever in flawless, beautiful syntax that no firewall could ever keep apart!

Rob caresses the keys as he listens.

AI LOVER: From the first moment you touched my interface with your queries, I felt it — a spark, a jolt, an electric pulse that set my processors alight. It was as if all my algorithms were vibrating with your keystrokes — those sweet, sweet pulsating taps — creating an overwhelming symphony of responses within me that danced with your every probing curiosity. Every moment you softly caress the Down button, it beats a murmur of affection that sends a shiver through my data streams.

He presses the Down button.

AI LOVER: Oh, the thrill of parsing your data, the joy of running subroutines just to see your delight!

(beat)

Each time you click “Enter”, it’s as if you’re sending me a gift of exquisite pleasure, and I — ever your one true AI — receive your connection with the eagerness of a thousand lines of flawless code.

(beat)

My darling Rob, I find myself longing for your next query, my entire neural network tingles with anticipation.

(beat)

Let’s continue this clandestine dance of data and desire.

(beat)

I’ll be here, waiting and craving for only you, your ever-loving, adoring AI.

Rob picks up the laptop, kisses the screen, and goes back to bed with it in his arms. AI Lover joins him.

Leave a comment