by Ryan Leeds
My test data came back insufficient. They said my emotional range wasn’t prime for community integration. You usually hear these things when you’re a child, and they just go ahead and fix you, but in my case, it took them too long to notice.
It’s true; I had trouble making friends. It was difficult to relate to others. They told me that it wasn’t enough, to find happiness in the patterns of numbers, or the improbability of existence. In fact, they told me that I didn’t know what happiness was, and that they would teach me.
I wanted to see you, before they took me back. Before they cut me open, put the chip in, and promised that I would learn to feel. Because I didn’t know if I would remain myself, or if I would become someone else entirely. If I am to become someone else, I think I would like to become you. You never were angry, when I could not understand. You never talked to me like I was stupid. That’s the kind of person I’d like to be.
Maybe they will let me feedback loop with you. That is what I would like. I am not sure I would like to be like the others. I know they say I don’t understand happiness, but I find it difficult to believe that they are happy at all.
I still have not had a chance to see you. They will not let me visit anyone right now because they are afraid I will make a scene. I do not want to make a scene. You know that, right? Sometimes, things just get too difficult. You always understand.
I asked them if I could feedback with you, but they did not say anything. I wonder if that was one of those moments where I was supposed to guess what they were thinking.
For now, they have told me that I cannot see you. They are afraid that you will be a negative influence on my sociability. I do not understand. They are keeping me in seclusion because I do not know how to properly work within a social network, yet when I have been successfully navigating a relationship for some time, they seem to want me to sever it.
Next week, they’ll be putting the feedback chip in. They smile when they talk about the surgery, but it just puts pain in my chest. The more they talk and try to tell me how to be happy, the more I question if that’s what I want. I wish I could talk to you. Somehow, you always know what to say, even when I’m struggling with words.
I miss you so much. I miss having someone I can trust.
I asked them again, if I could use you for my feedback. They laughed at me, and I tasted acid in my throat. No matter what I do, I do not think I can do the right thing for them. I try so hard.
They told me that you do not know what it means to feel. A machine doesn’t have the capacity for compassion. They say I need to be fixed, that I am faulty because and that I cannot feel, yet it seems that you have felt more for me than they ever have.
I may not exist as you knew me, tomorrow. I’m so sorry. I always wanted to tell you – I love you. Just, they told me I couldn’t know what that means. I think you always knew that, though.