I Feel Love

Printed in the paper, a strange place for print in this day and age, the advertisement read as follows:
Have you lost a loved one recently; perhaps a lover, maybe a friend, or family member? Are you having trouble coping with this loss, letting go, moving on? Has your social life, love life, or career suffered as a result of your grief? Do you want to feel whole again? If so, contact Loved Ones Lost and Found Inc. for an opportunity to participate in a revolutionary new grief treatment study. Now is your chance to be whole again.
They say that it is good to grieve, but Jeremy Fig rarely did, and when he did, he grieved only in the privacy of his own home, never in public. To demonstrate grief to others was to burden them with grief, and Mr. Fig considered himself far too considerate to be a burden. The others were not so considerate as Jeremy. A despondent man stared at the wall without blinking; a woman in gray clutched her knees and heaved with sorrow; and a young boy held a baseball glove while rocking back and forth repeating the same name again and again, “Phillip, Phillip, Phillip.” Their sadness burdened Jeremy, who rolled his eyes and popped a nicotine lozenge in his mouth, a hollow alternative to the cigarettes he used to enjoy.  

“Fig? Jeremy Fig?” A woman with a clipboard finally called his name, and he stood to meet her at the door. As he entered the hallway, Jeremy looked back and the boy with the glove looked up to meet his gaze. Jeremy gave a brief thumbs up. The boy did not return the gesture.
“We are… interested in your case in particular.” There were two doctors, and each of them referred to themselves as ‘we.’ “We’ve never conducted this study with someone who was, well, someone with your particular preferences before.”
“A f*g?” asked Jeremy with a dose of sarcastic aggression.
“NO- well, yes,” Dr. Maravilla shifted in her seat, “well, we wouldn’t phrase it that way. What I mean is that we’ve never had a request for a homosexual replica before.”
“You don’t have any gay droids?”
“Mr Fig. you’re being sarcastic, but I’d like to reemphasize that we do think your particular case is important. It’s a unique opportunity to expand our program.”
“To include gay droids?”
“Precisely,” the second doctor spoke up to afford Dr. Maravilla a much needed break from this difficult patient, “since the majority of the population is heterosexual we naturally focused our preliminary research towards that substantial demographic. Now that we are near completion of the first stage of distribution, we can apply focus to nontraditional sexual orientations. We have been looking to include your kind…”
“My kind?”  
“Homosexuals, yes.”
 “The only thing is,”
“What?”
“Well, you don’t demonstrate any traditional signs of grief, except perhaps,” the doctor adjusted his glasses, “Except anger.”
“So?” Jeremy remained expressionless, but his excitement blistered and swelled into disappointment.
“Well it’s just that, as we said, our program is limited to a small selection of participants. Your inclusion
will mean the exclusion of someone else, and we must be assured that the people we choose are people who will benefit from this treatment.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you want help?”
“I want my husband back.”
“You can have that.”
“He’s dead.”
“We know.”
“I wasn’t there.”
“Now you can be.”
“How?” 

“Do you want help?”
“Yes.”
The doctors exchanged glances.
“We’ll be in touch, Mr. Fig,” said Dr. Maravilla.
“Should I�"“
“We’ll be in touch.”

Ms. Grimshaw stood on the walkway and couldn’t quite remember which house was hers. Fig rolled his eyes as he approached, noting that her tendency to wander was getting worse. “Hi there, Ms. Grimshaw,” he mustered a smile as he spoke, “Lost again?”
“No dear, heavens no,” replied Ms. Grimshaw, “I just don’t remember where I live.”
Fig placed his arm around the woman’s back and grasped her hand in his, “Well, Ms. Grimshaw, this is my house here,” he turned her in the right direction, and walked her to her own front door, “And your house is here. See? Your door is red, and mine is brown.”
“Of course,” Ms. Grimshaw was dismissive as always, “But I remember that house,” she pointed back across the yard, “Did I live there?”
“No, not quite,” Fig tried his best to speak softly, “But you used to visit quite often when my husband was at home.”
“Oh, yes,” her face lit up with recognition, “we used to play Hearts in the afternoon. He cuts my lawn on Sundays.”
“Well, he used to,” Jeremy was accustomed to this conversation by now. Still, it was difficult to repeat.
“Yes, he used to,” Ms. Grimshaw looked back over her yard, “The grass is very long now.”
“Yes, the grass is very long now,” Jeremy agreed.
“Will he cut it again soon?”
“He’s gone, Ms. Grimshaw. He won’t be coming over.”
“That’s a shame. The grass is very long,” she repeated. “Will he be back soon?”
“He’s dead, Ms. Grimshaw.”
“That’s too bad.” Ms. Grimshaw walked up the steps. Then, with her hand on the knob said, “Well, if you
see him, say hello for me.”
“Okay, Ms. Grimshaw. You have a good night.” Jeremy Fig walked back to his townhouse leaving Ms.
Grimshaw standing, door knob in hand, trying once again to remember where she lived.
“He’s dead,” she whispered, “He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead.”
The approximate size of the box was six feet lengthwise and three feet in width. It arrived two weeks after Fig’s appointment. On the side of the box was a label which read Fragile: some assembly required. Inside, there was a note.
“Dear, Mr. Fig, we are dearly sorry for your loss. All of us at Loved Ones Lost and Found Inc.
wish to extend our warmest gratitude to you for participating in this study. We hope that this method of therapy will prove as successful for you as it has for participants in the past.
Inside this package you will find your very own replacement for a Lost Loved One. The android enclosed shares traits and features based on the descriptions, recordings, and photographs of your loved one you provided. Bear in mind, this is still a prototype, but in the future a finished product will be available for purchase.  We look forward to your feedback, and to your recovery. If you have questions, don’t hesitate to call the number on the bottom of this page. Now, are you ready to be whole again?
- Dr. Maravilla Melville”
Assembling an android is no small task for someone like Jeremy Fig, who as a child, often demanded that his father finish building his Lego sets for him. Legos came prepackaged with step by step directions, the android did not. Fig alternated between frustration and rage for the duration of the process.

He was determined however, to overcome his childhood fear of completing a project, and worked with a diligence that would have, until this point, been quite unassociated with his personality. He connected the legs, the vocal chords, cheek bones, penis, and chest plate, all while following unclear instructions that were incomplete in some places and, in others, written in Swedish. Luckily, there were pictures to help him along.

After several hours, Jeremy Fig sat studying the sightless eyes of the android’s exposed, metallic skull. The only thing left was the face. Jeremy left it in the box until this point, still in its plastic case �" the face of his dead lover, comprised of organic materials meant to resemble human skin. He felt not quite ready to see the eerie, lifeless visage, back from the dead, detached, and wrapped in plastic as it was. But after having put together the rest of the android �" no small feat of humanoid architecture �" Jeremy felt confident and accomplished enough to confront the replica of his deceased husband’s features.

It looked like a mask, and when he held it up to the light, the light shone right through from the other side. The skin felt almost real, except it was a bit more rubbery than real skin, almost gelatinous. Other than the slight variation in texture, the facade was convincing, and Jeremy understood that there would be little difference between the synthetic countenance he now held, and the real-life face of his husband, had it been peeled from his real-life skull.

After stretching the face across the android’s bionic bone structure, Jeremy pinned it at six different points to soft spots behind the ears. Then he propped himself against the couch and stared at the machine propped against the opposite couch.

Jeremy viewed the object with suspicion. He was excited, but tentative too, expecting at any moment to be assaulted by the robot, which would spring to life filled with mechanical rage, eyes burning to the core, motivated by vengeance. Instead, nothing happened. So Jeremy waited… and waited… and nothing continued to happen.

“How do you turn the damn thing on?!” Fig shouted, instantly convinced he’d wasted his effort. He crawled on his hands and knees across the carpet toward the android in search of a switch, a button, anything to turn it on. He felt the robot, his hands wandering up and down its textured surface, but found nothing. He wondered if perhaps it was voice activated, and tried to think of appropriate activation phrases.

“On,” he shouted.
Nothing.
“Turn on,” he shouted.
Still nothing.
“Activate! Live! Wake up!” he repeated these commands over and over, but each time was unsuccessful. He became frustrated, and struck the machine again, and again, and again, but it remained silent. Jeremy Fig did not cry �" not often at least �"but looking at the inanimate form before him, which looked so much like his husband, brought him to tears.

 Finally, Jeremy was exhausted. He stopped striking the android. He stopped crying. He bowed his head and placed it gently on the android’s shoulder.

“I miss you.” Jeremy whispered.
Nothing.
“Please.” He said.
Nothing.
“Donnie,”

“Hrrrrr,” at the sound of its name a sharp, metallic breath emitted from the android. Its chest heaved then it breathed again, louder this time. The neck creaked as the head turned toward Fig. Unlike before, Jeremy looked at the robot and knew it was looking back at him.
Donnie was ashamed of the acne scars on his shoulders and the back of his neck, so he wore a scarf to hide them. He fiddled with his scarf when he became nervous, an anxious tick of which Jeremy Fig had become aware after several years with the man. Jeremy and Donnie stood in the produce section, and Donnie was fiddling with his scarf.
“You okay?” asked Fig, trying to be nonchalant. He knew that Donnie’s temperament had a tendency to reveal itself in public, so subtlety was important when addressing his partner’s anxiety. Donnie ignored Jeremy’s question, apparently preoccupied by his task of feeling for the freshest oranges. Jeremy decided against repeating the question.
It continued like this for a while, with Fig asking questions to which Donnie did not respond. Jeremy felt far away, and every time he stepped closer, Donnie stepped in the opposite direction, as if to confirm the space between them. Finally Fig took hold of Donnie’s arm.
Donnie avoided eye contact when he spoke, “Jeremy, we have to talk about something.”
“You sound sad. Are you sad? What’s on your mind?”
“Not here,” Donnie spoke almost in a whisper, a stark contrast to his usual outgoing volume, “when we get home. We should wait until we get home.”
Donnie was not a discreet man, and that he’d suggested a private conversation made Jeremy uneasy.
For a moment there was silence, save for the beep, beep, beep of the register in the distance. The aisle smelled of apples and peaches and when Donnie finally looked back into Jeremy’s eyes, Jeremy noticed that he was crying.
“Donnie, are you feeling okay?”
His voice cracked as he spoke, “I feel �" I feel…”
“That is my name?” the robot’s voice sounded almost human, except that its syllables were over annunciated, as if English were a language it had recently learned. “That is my name?” The question was repeated, “My name is Donnie?” When it said ‘Donnie’ its lips didn’t move, rather its mouth hung open and a recording of Jeremy’s voice played instead of its own. It was unnerving.
“Yes,” Jeremy composed himself, “that is your name. Your name is Donnie.”
The Donnie robot blinked, and when it did, it reminded Jeremy of a bug. “Hello, my name is Donnie. And your name is Jeremy?”
“How did you?”
“Jeremy. Your name is Jeremy. Yes,” Donnie blinked again, “and we are in love?”
“What? No, that’s not how that wor�"“
“Yes. We are, and we are one.” Donnie held up two fingers, then pressed them together as it spoke, “We are two as one.”
“No,” Jeremy was getting annoyed, “No we’re not. You’re a replacement.”
“A replacement?”
“Yes, you’re just a replacement �" a thing.”
“A replacement for what?”
“For Donnie.“   
“I am Donnie. That is my name?”
“Well yes, but�"“
“And we are in love.”
The robot’s logic was juvenile, but impenetrable. Jeremy realized that arguing was futile and so he agreed. “Sure. Fine. We’re in love.”
“Yes. You love me.”
“Sure,” he said, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” said Donnie, and its voice grew deep and then went silent. The droid did not move or speak.
“Donnie? Donnie?!”  Jeremy was convinced once again of a worst-case scenario. He was afraid that he’d broken his new machine. He sat for a moment, mentally writing angry letters of complaint to Loved Ones Lost and Found Inc.
Your robot is s**t, began the theoretical polemic, I am left emotionally traumatized by your inferior product. I demand redress.
Then Jeremy remembered how he’d turned the android on in the first place, and felt a little silly. He drew his lips close to Donnie’s ear for the second time that evening. “Donnie,” he whispered again, and the name was followed by a familiar sound of electronic inhalation.
“Hello… Jeremy. I was sleeping.”
“That’s okay, Donnie,” Jeremy smiled, “I love you.”
Donnie’s voice deepened again as it deactivated. “I love you too.”
“Well I’ll be damned.” Jeremy didn’t know what to think, so he avoided thought altogether. He rested his head on the couch and fell asleep.

“Wake up, lazy. I made eggs.”

Jeremy woke up and noticed that the Donnie robot had not moved from its position in the night. He watched it for a while, while it sat there looking like the real thing. The resemblance was uncanny, something which Jeremy found bizarre; comforting, but bizarre. He activated the droid.
“Hello… Jeremy. I was sleeping.”
“Yeah, I know. You don’t have to tell me that every time.”
Donnie held up its thumb and smiled, “Okay.” It left its thumb in the air.
“I’m going to make breakfast.”
“Okay.”
“Do you want�"I mean, do you eat?”
“Do I eat?” Donnie continued to smile.
“Can you eat?”
“Yes, Jeremy,” the robot sounded proud of this, “I can do everything that the real Donnie can do.”
“Everything?”
“Everything.”
“In that case, do you want to help?”
“Do I want to help?”
“Yeah, do you want to help make breakfast?” Jeremy hesitated as he asked, having been alone for some time, he had a brief fear that the robot would reject him.
“Yes, I would like to help you make breakfast.”
“Alright,” Jeremy used sarcasm to mask his relief, “Making breakfast with a robot that looks like my boyfriend. This is my life now.”
The results proved disastrous at first. Although it possessed a technical knowledge of culinary requirements, the Donnie robot lacked finesse. Its eggs were scrambled, always, as if the concept of over-easy were not in its programming.
It seemed however to be proud of its accomplishments, like a child carrying burnt bacon and toast into its parent’s room for breakfast and bed on Father’s day. Because of this, Jeremy Fig was sparse with his criticism, adopting a soft and sympathetic tone when correcting the android’s mistakes.
“If you add milk it makes the eggs fluffier.”
“Fluffier?” Donnie stroked the air as if it were petting a dog.
“No, not fluffy like a pet, fluffy like a texture. Fluffy as in soft… when you eat it.”
“They will be softer and fluffier.” Donnie made a mental note of this and violently scrambled another egg.
“See? How’s that taste? Pretty good?” Jeremy spoke through a mouthful of eggs.
“I cannot taste.”
“You can’t?” Jeremy felt a twinge of pity, which seemed unjustified considering the circumstances.
“I can’t.”
“Then why eat?”
“To be honest I don’t know.” Donnie blinked again and this time, seemed less insectile in its movements.
“Are you doing it for me?”
“Yes, Jeremy. I am doing everything for you.”
“Well, don’t do that anymore.”
“Do what?”
“Don’t perform for me, just do whatever you want.”
“Okay, Jeremy.”
After breakfast, Jeremy and Donnie walked by the river until they came to a shaded hideaway where Jeremy used to go with the real Donnie. It was a serene place that Jeremy rarely visited anymore. He sat under a tree and closed his eyes while Donnie looked out over the river.  
“So this is the ocean,” Donnie said.
Jeremy opened one eye, “No this is the Kishwaukee river, Donnie. The ocean is further,” he gestured with his arm, “that way somewhere.”
“So this is the river,” Donnie said.
“Bingo,” Jeremy replied.
“I like the river,” Donnie said.
“I want to drown myself in it,” Jeremy replied.
Donnie became very serious and poised itself to tackle Jeremy in the event of his attempted suicide. “I cannot let you do that, Jeremy.”
“It was a joke, Donnie, Jesus. I have a dark sense of humor. You’ll have to get used to it,” Jeremy chuckled, “Man, you don’t have much of a sense of humor at all do you?”

“A sense of humor? No, unfortunately I do not. Was Donnie very funny?”
Jeremy was quiet for a moment, watching ants crawl around and on top of his hand. “He was very funny.”
Donnie looked towards the tree as the leaves twisted in the wind, changing from light to dark green in the sunlight. Under its breath, Donnie whispered, “Donnie was very funny. I am Donnie, and Donnie was very funny.”
Each night Jeremy said “I love you,” and the droid went to sleep, and each morning he whispered its name and it awoke. For five days Jeremy did this, and welcomed the routine.
“Hello, Jeremy. I was sleeping.”
“I know. You really don’t have to say that every time.”
“Then I will not anymore,” Donnie replied. It stood and walked to the bathroom, where it brushed its teeth. It used toothpaste, although it wasn’t necessary. It flossed, although it wasn’t necessary. Jeremy appreciated the absurdity of the performed. The droid provided him with a visual cue, an opportunity to actively reflect on happier times.
Donnie spit into the sink. He stood in his briefs and flexed in front of the mirror. Then he bared his teeth and made a faint growling sound. “Old bear,” he said, “you’re getting rough around the edges, but you still look handsome.” Donnie slapped his belly, “got a gut,” he laughed, “still sexy though.”
“You are still sexy.” Donnie nearly fell over when he heard Jeremy’s voice from the doorway. He composed himself, but the blooming red roses on his cheeks exposed his embarrassment.
“You, uh, you been standing there long?”
“Long enough to see the whole show,” Jeremy laughed. “Am I interrupting? You two need privacy?” Jeremy asked and gestured to Donnie’s reflection.
Donnie looked back to the mirror and raised his eyebrows, “You come here often?” he asked the mirror, “Hey, I’ve got a man, but if you can be discreet,” he looked back to Jeremy, “I can be single just for tonight.”
“Okay that’s enough, I’m getting jealous,” Jeremy ruffled a patch of Donnie’s silver hair, then embraced him, pinning his arms at his sides.
“Jealous, huh?” Donnie asked with a wink. They kissed. “Still jealous?”  
“A little.” They kissed again.
“How’s that?”
“Minty.” Jeremy laughed and Donnie joined him. They kissed again, longer this time. They kissed until there were stars in the corners of their eyes. They kissed until it was unbearable.
“Last night I dreamed.” The robot’s voice brought Jeremy back from his memories.
“What?”
“Last night I had a dream.”
“You dream?”
“Yes.” Donnie seemed proud again of its human tendencies.
“About what?” Jeremy asked, now fully present.
 “I dreamed about you.”
“About me?”
“About you,” Donnie confirmed, “and about this house.”
“Oh wow. Was it a good dream?”
“No.” At this response, Jeremy felt a nervous itch as it formed at the base of his neck. “It was a nightmare, Jeremy.”
“About me?”
“And this house. Yes.”
“What happened?”
“In the dream?”
“Yes.”
Donnie shuffled in place for a moment then began, “I stood at the bottom of the stairs. You stood at the top. It was dark in the house and the shadows from outside stretched into the hallway. I could not see your face. I lifted my foot onto the bottom step, and as I did, you were lifted into the air by a rope around your neck. With each stair I took, you rose higher into the air. When I reached the top of the stairs, your feet swung back and forth above me, just out of reach.
I brought a chair from the bedroom, but when I returned you were gone. I looked back to the bedroom. Someone was standing there, in the doorway, it was not you. It was me, but it wasn’t me. I was choking you, Jeremy. I was choking you.”
Stunned silence seemed appropriate and so Jeremy obliged.
“Does that scare you, Jeremy?”
“I mean,” Jeremy stuttered. He felt as if he were standing on a carnival ride, a very insidious carnival ride that whispered threats as it whirled and spun.
“It was a joke!” Donnie shouted. Its mouth hung open and emitted the sound of laughter.
“What?!”
“I was only joking!”
“Jesus, Donnie,” Jeremy felt relieved �" angry, but relieved, “that’s a bit dark, isn’t it?”
“I have a dark sense of humor, Jeremy.”
Jeremy pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled in frustration. “I appreciate the effort, but we’re really going to have to work on making that whole sense of humor thing more appropriate.”
“Okay, Jeremy,” said the droid. “I am very funny,” muttered the droid just quiet enough so that Jeremy could not hear.
“You back on the market yet?” Carol materialized from nowhere and startled Jeremy.
“Jesus, Carol,” Jeremy was in the process of assembling a tripod and nearly dropped his camera. “I’m in the middle of setting up. Could you maybe not sneak up like that?”
“Sorry,” Carol hesitated for a moment, but decided to continue, “It’s just that I met this great guy and you two would be just perfect together!” Carol was the type of co-worker who proclaimed that every two gay men she’d ever met would be “just perfect together.”
“I don’t know if he’d be my type and�"“
“Oh he’s absolutely your type! He’s twenty-three but he likes older men. His name is Ben and he’s a swimsuit model. You know what means,” Jeremy didn’t so she nudged his shoulder and he nearly dropped his camera again, “swimmer’s body.” She said these words as if they would immediately erase Jeremy’s hesitance. “Can I just give you his number?”
“I’m actually seeing someone,” Jeremy stated abruptly without realizing he was referring to the replica at home.
“Really? Who?” Carol’s curiosity filtered through the tone in her voice. She was desperate for information, which Jeremy refused to supply.
“You don’t know him,” said Jeremy, and Carol eyed him suspiciously. “Anyway,” he continued, “I have to get back to work.” Jeremy met her prying gaze with an equally passionate stubbornness. When Carol realized she would receive no further information, she clicked her tongue in disapproval and walked away, muttering something under her breath about “trying to help.”
When he walked through the door, Jeremy heard laughter in the kitchen �" a woman’s laughter, definitely not the robot.
“I’m sorry young man, what was your name again?”
“My name is Donnie.”
Ms. Grimshaw and Donnie sat next to each other at the kitchen table, playing cards. It was the first time another person had interacted with Donnie, and Jeremy felt momentarily ashamed, as if he’d been caught in a secret or a lie. However, Ms. Grimshaw did not seem to recognize any difference between this Donnie and the real person. She smiled and laughed just like she had in the past.
“He’s back,” she said, “He’s back, he’s back, he’s back.”
“Hello, Jeremy,” said the android, “I have just agreed to cut Ms. Grimshaw’s grass again.”
“Oh, good news,” Jeremy replied. He didn’t quite know how to respond to his neighbor’s presence. His feelings were intensified, and this exaggerated feeling created in him, a familiar warmth. It was nice to have a person to be with, with other people �" even if that person was a robot.
“My grass is getting very long,” said Ms. Grimshaw, “It’s dangerous, and filled with creatures.”
“Creatures?” Donnie asked.
“Creatures,” she confirmed, “dangerous creatures,” she specified, raising her eyebrows and widening her eyes. Then she burst into laughter, and Donnie joined her. Jeremy didn’t understand what either of the two found so hilarious. He felt excluded.
To reestablish himself, Jeremy did something unexpected: he kissed Donnie. It was their first kiss, and at first it was brief, but they lingered for longer than appropriate given the situation. Jeremy withdrew, “it’s been a long day,” he said, “I think I’ll head up to bed. You two seem to be having fun, but don’t be too long okay?”
“Okay, honey,” Donnie replied, “I love you.” Jeremy nearly repeated the phrase but caught himself in time to avoid deactivation.
“I… will see you upstairs,” he said. As Jeremy entered the bedroom he was followed by the sound of more laughter. It seemed that Donnie’s sense of humor was improving.
“Shall I go to the closet?” Jeremy looked up from his book and saw Donnie standing in the doorway.
“You could,” Jeremy hesitated, “you could sleep here if you want.”
“I can?”
“Yeah, if you’d want,” Jeremy stuttered, “you could �" you could just sleep here,” he patted the empty space on the bed next to him.
Its body provided a familiar comfort, with its arms, legs, and stomach, each with warmth of their own. Warm, as if its circulation were more than circuits, its skin like human skin, its flesh, convincing enough to protect his feelings when he pressed his head against. The eyes �" clear, blue and reflective �" peered not from a mechanical mind, but with real love, a love he could feel, as he traced the outlines of tattoos with his fingertips moving up and down Donnie’s bare chest.
Jeremy felt secure, protected again in arms that could break, just like his, pressed against a heart that could break, just like his. It was complete, it was renewed, and it was real. Except that it wasn’t real. Jeremy reminded himself that it wasn’t real. This frame beside him, complete with accurate tattoos, scars, and birthmarks, was nothing more than an employed fabrication, so he rolled over and slept alone.
Donnie, having been left active, stared at the shadows as they slid and faded into hours before disappearing into the sunrise. Donnie did not feel offended by its partner’s rejection. Donnie did not feel anything.
In the morning, Jeremy stretched his arms and discovered an empty bed. Downstairs the sounds of pots and pans alerted Jeremy of the droid’s location. He sighed away a sense of guilt concerning the previous evening’s events and set about his room performing menial chores, which tended to reduce Jeremy’s negative feelings and restored a sense of productivity.
Today however, despite completing an intuitive new closet arrangement in which his dress shoes were organized according to color and style, Jeremy’s malaise eluded alleviation. It was ridiculous, he reminded himself, to feel sympathy for an unfeeling robot, as ridiculous, he thought, as apologizing to a speaker system or divorcing an iPhone. Nevertheless, his malcontent persisted and he was forced to admit, however reluctantly, that he’d developed empathy for the Donnie robot at some point when he wasn’t paying attention.
And so, even the comforting distraction of organization failed to assuage his growing realization that it was himself who was hurt by coldness, himself and no one else. Jeremy would not be well until he mustered a conscious effort to be respectful of those around him, and the droid he thought, would be a satisfactory test subject for his good behavior.
Unconsciously, Jeremy had stopped cleaning and instead sat rooting through a box of old photographs found under a blazer he’d not worn since, perhaps, the photographs were taken. The pictures were old �" “vintage” would be an apt description �" printed on film from a period when film was considered trendy enough to justify its outrageous price. The images in the pictures were also of another era.
An era before Donnie ever left, when they stayed up smoking cigarettes in their first apartment, where the wallpaper drooped from humidity because the air conditioner didn’t work and they couldn’t afford to fix it. Back then when there was him, and there was Donnie, and they were happy. Before they grew up and quit smoking, but Donnie not by choice.
There were other photographs too, those of a more lecherous nature. Their bodies embraced as the camera flashed automatically. Jeremy held fond memories of their love-making, which the images helped him recall.
“I made eggs!” announced a loud voice behind Jeremy, interrupting his recollections, and he struggled to hide the photographs.
“Wow, you are… quiet when you want to be,” Jeremy barked, “Could you maybe knock?”
“I am quiet, Jeremy, and I can knock. I can do everything the real Donnie can do.”
“Well add knocking to the list of things you imitate regularly please,” Jeremy saw that Donnie held a plate for him with breakfast prepared and his sense of guilt returned from earlier. Already he was finding hard to keep the resolution he’d made to himself only moments ago. “Geez, I’m sorry, Donnie. I’m not trying to be rude, you startled me, that’s all.”
“I apologize, Jeremy,” Donnie replied, “I made eggs for you, with milk, to make them softer and fluffier.”
“Thank you, you’re a real pro chef,” Jeremy would have said, if he’d not been trying to be less sarcastic. Instead he just said “thanks.”
“No problem,” Donnie replied and flashed another thumbs up.
“And…” Jeremy continued, “…I’m sorry about last night too. I shouldn’t have been short with you.”
“Jeremy, I don’t mind when you’re short with me. I don’t mind when you’re condescending or rude. I care about your feelings, and I want you to express them.”
Jeremy considered this then said, “Alright, that’s fair, but I feel bad when I treat you badly, so remind me not to treat you like s**t.”
“Okay, Jeremy,” Donnie replied, then hesitated, “and thank you.” Its voice shook slightly when it showed gratitude, and in that moment, Donnie appeared more human to Jeremy than it had before.
“I was,” Jeremy began, “I was looking at some old photos I found, and I was wondering if you’d want to try something with me.”
“Yes, I would love to,” Donnie obediently replied.
“Only if you really want to, Donnie; It’s a little bit weird.”
“What did you have in mind?” asked the droid.
“Smile,” Jeremy commanded. Donnie did and the bulb flashed. Donnie stood naked, posing in a stance with its leg on the couch.
“How’s that?” Donnie asked as Jeremy sucked a nicotine lozenge and examined the photograph.
“Convincing,” Jeremy said, surprised by how honest a statement that was. There were only slight differences between this photo and the one he was attempting to recreate.
“Is that good?” Donnie asked.
“Yes, but let’s try it again. I don’t want to be able to tell the difference.”
“Okay Jeremy,” the camera flashed again, “shall we take another?”
“Um, sure,” Jeremy replied. He set the camera to automatic and approached Donnie. “I’m gonna be in these next couple pictures if that’s okay.”
“That’s okay,” Donnie confirmed.
“Could you sit down on the couch?”
The camera flashed.
“And spread your legs?”
Donnie did, and Jeremy knelt down between its knees.
“Jeremy what are you doing?”
Jeremy removed the lozenge from his mouth and placed it on the coffee table. “You look just like him,” Jeremy said, and his voice sounded like it was coming from somewhere else, somewhere in the past. In his hand, Jeremy held a photograph.
“Jeremy, if you want to engage in intercourse I can prepa-“ Donnie was interrupted with a kiss. The droid was not surprised exactly, but it wasn’t prepared either. The kiss was inept at first, but grew passionate in the moments that followed. Donnie looked into Jeremy’s eyes. Jeremy looked at the photograph.
The camera flashed.
“Get on your stomach, Donnie,” Donnie did as it was told and Jeremy removed his clothes. He mounted Donnie, all the while staring at the photograph of the real Donnie.
The camera flashed.
“You like that, Donnie?”
“I do not feel pleasure,” replied the droid.
The camera flashed.
“Well Jesus, couldn’t you just pretend?” Jeremy asked.
“I do not feel pleasure,” Donnie repeated.
“Just do it for me!”
“I do not feel pleasure,” Donnie repeated again and again.
“I don’t f*****g care!” Jeremy shouted and shoved the droid’s face into the couch cushions.
The camera flashed.
Jeremy continued, all the while staring at the photograph while Donnie’s words repeated in his mind,
I do not feel pleasure. I do not feel pleasure. I do not feel pleasure.
The camera flashed.
“He doesn’t feel pleasure!”
“He?”
“It�"it doesn’t feel pleasure.”
Dr. Maravilla scribbled something on her notepad before responding. “And you want it to?”
“Well yes,” Jeremy felt persecuted by the line of questioning, but he continued, “I finally had sex with the thing and it felt like abuse. How am I supposed to bond with it, you know,” he used air quotes, “’intimately’ if it doesn’t feel pleasure?”
“Mr. Fig, sex isn’t everything in a relationship. There are plenty of intimate couples who�"“
“Listen,” Jeremy cut in, “I don’t need to hear details about your love, okay? With me and Donnie it wasn’t like that.”
“And you want it to be?” Maravilla seemed unaffected and even smirked at the insult.
“Yes!” The review session with the Dr. Maravilla and her colleague was going well until the topic of sex was broached, at which point Jeremy felt obliged to give his honest opinion.
“Mr. Fig, I think you may be losing sight of the purpose for this therapy. The replica is not meant to replace your loved, but merely to serve as a placeholder to facilitate the healing process.”
“I understand what it’s supposed to do, but you’ve removed an important part of my relationship. Sex is important to me, it was important to Donnie, the real Donnie, and with the replica it feels like masturbation. That’s not going to work.”
“No one else has complained.”
“Look,” Jeremy was growing impatient, “Donnie was my lover. How can the replacement feel like my lover if he doesn’t like to make love?”
Dr. Maravilla scribbled another note then looked to her partner who looked at the ceiling. “To be honest Mr. Fig, we’ve never even considered allowing the replica’s to feel pleasure.”
“Great,” Jeremy pouted.
“But,” she reassured, “we’ll see what we can do.” At this, the other Doctor coughed, but Maravilla silenced him with a glance.
When Jeremy left the office, Maravilla looked to her colleague, who rolled his eyes and said, “How are we even supposed to know what he means by ‘pleasure?’”
“Oh grow up, Ted,” Maravilla replied, “Not everyone is as frigid as your wife.”
The note read,
Dear Mr. Fig, to address your issue, we have included an update to Donnie’s programming. Inside this envelope you will find a capsule. Place the capsule inside Donnie’s eyelid to update its software. The capsule will dissolve within an hour. Be sure to deactivate the droid before performing the installation process. Thank you for your helpful feedback
- Dr. Maravilla, Loved Ones Lost and Found Inc.
“I love you, Donnie.”
“I love you too,” replied the droid, as it deactivated.
Jeremy sucked a nicotine lozenge and tried not to think about sex. He read a book to distract himself but his attention turned inevitably towards the clock. He felt the lump in Donnie’s eye, which was receding, but not fast enough. Jeremy sighed and read the same sentence he’d been reading for the past thirty minutes. By the time the hour expired, his excitement was close to driving him insane.
“Donnie,” the droid woke up at the sound of Jeremy’s whisper. “How do you feel?” Jeremy asked.
“I feel pressure,” Donnie replied.
“In your eye?” Jeremy asked.
“No,” Donnie said, and looked at its lap.
“Oh,” Jeremy blushed, “so how do you want to do this? Should I�"“ Donnie jumped on top of him and tore his shirt. “Ow, hang on,” Jeremy protested, but the droid was insatiable and paid no attention to his protestations.
A potted plant turned on its side, a broken armchair, cushions strewn about the room, and Donnie lying next to Jeremy, naked on the floor. Both were out of breath, Jeremy more so. “Woah,” Jeremy barely had the energy to muster even this expression, but he repeated himself regardless, “Woah.”
“I am grateful for this update, Jeremy.”
“I can’t move,” Jeremy laughed, and his body ached as it heaved.
“Again?” asked Donnie.
“No Donnie, Jesus. Not yet. I can’t yet.”
Donnie’s hand wandered to a particularly sensitive area of Jeremy’s body. “I think you can,” it said. Jeremy cringed.
“Donnie, don’t!”
“Yes, Jeremy.”
“Stop!” Jeremy shouted, but Donnie didn’t. “I love you,” Jeremy said to deactivate the droid.
“I love you too,” Donnie whispered in response. Jeremy hesitated, waiting for Donnie to turn off. It didn’t, so he repeated the phrase.
“I love you.”
“And I love you too,” Donnie replied, still pawing at Jeremy’s body.
“No, I love you!” Jeremy repeated, louder this time.
“I love you too,” Donnie said, its voice finally growing deep.
“Jesus,” Jeremy whispered after he was sure the droid was off. He popped a nicotine lozenge and examined Donnie’s curled, unmoving body. Not unmoving �" Donnie was still breathing. Donnie continued to breath.
“You have to stay in here for the night, okay?”
“Why can’t I meet your friends, Jeremy?” There was slight, but recognizable sadness in the droid’s voice.
“Donnie,” Jeremy took Donnie’s hand in his own, “This last week has been incredible �" passionate, romantic, and incredible. I feel amazing. You make me feel amazing. But I’m not ready to introduce you yet, okay? Soon, but not yet.”
“Okay, Jeremy,” the robot looked away, but Jeremy pulled its face toward him.
“Hey, I think you’re incredible.” Jeremy kissed Donnie, and they lingered with their lips together. Donnie seemed reassured. “Just stay in the closet tonight. After tonight you’ll never have to sleep in here again, okay?”
“Okay, Jeremy.”
“I love you, Donnie.”
“I love you too,” Donnie echoed as it deactivated. Jeremy studied the droid for a moment to ensure that it was really off. Satisfied, he descended to the kitchen, poured a glass of wine, and waited for the guests to arrive.
In the closet, Donnie’s eyes flickered for a brief moment then closed, and the room went silent again.
“How have you been? My god, it’s been what, a year at least? How’s the magazine? You still dealing with that b***h from recruitment? What was her name again?”
“Carol,” Jeremy laughed, thoroughly buzzed by now, “and you’d better keep your voice down… she’s right over there.” Jeremy lifted his glass to Carol, and responded with a similar gesture.
“Oh god, she’s coming over.”
“Be cool,” Jeremy hissed.
“Oh my god, your house is so nice!” Carol’s volume indicated that she was a bit more than thoroughly buzzed.
“Yeah well,” Jeremy shuffled his feet, “I haven’t had a lot of people over since�"“
“Devin,” Jeremy’s friend extended his hand in introduction. “Jeremy told me a lot about you. How lovely you are, I mean.”
“Oh, stop,” Carol was a lot more than buzzed, “but really, he’s a great guy. Everyone at the magazine loves his work!” she shoved Jeremy playfully, but a bit too hard. “Is this your new boyfriend?”
“New boyfriend?” Devin asked and raised his eyebrows, “no I’m just an old friend.” He turned to Jeremy and his voice sounded mischievous, “new boyfriend, eh?”
Inside the closet, Donnie’s eyes flickered again. An electronic sputter emitted from deep within its frame. Then, it drew a metallic breath.
“Yes new boyfriend!” Carol continued.
“It’s nothing serious,” Jeremy chided.
“Who is it?” Devin asked.
“I tried to set him up with a friend, but he wasn’t having it. Said he’s got a new beau, won’t tell me who it is though.” Carol looked to Devin, “what about you,” she asked, “you looking?”
“Married,” Devin said, holding up his ring finger.
“To a man?”
“Yes.”
“I ask because I know this guy who would be just perfect for you!”
“I’m married,” Devin repeated, confused by Carol’s continued advances.
The closet door opened with a bang that resonated all the way downstairs. This was followed by the sound of footsteps down the hall, then the stairs, then into the living room. Donnie stood in front of Jeremy. Everything stopped.
“Go back upstairs,” Jeremy commanded. Donnie grasped at Jeremy, catching his shirt in its fingers. “Not now, Donnie! Jesus Christ!” Jeremy shouted.
“I want you, Jeremy.” Donnie spoke in a monotone, with one thing on its mind.
“What the f**k?” Devin stood stunned at the sight of Donnie.
“You guys are so cute together,” Carol shouted.
“Get him off me” Jeremy pleaded. Donnie would not be stopped. “Donnie, not here!” Jeremy shouted.
“Upstairs then?” Donnie asked.
“Not now!”
“Then here,” Donnie said, and removed its pants.
“Jesus Christ, Donnie!” All eyes were on Jeremy now, as the droid removed his shirt, and bent him over the back of the couch. “Get the hell off of me!” Jeremy shouted. “Donnie, I don’t want this!”
“I don’t f*****g care!” Donnie shouted, and shoved Jeremy’s head into the couch cushions.
“He tried to f**k me in front of my friends!”
“Why didn’t you just turn it off?”
“That’s just it, he won’t turn off anymore, at least not all the time. And he won’t stay off, when he is off!”
“Well, it must be an unexpected side effect of the installation,” Dr. Maravilla was enthusiastic, “fascinating.”
“Fascinating? Maybe to you! Two of my friends had to drag my dead husband off of me last night. How the hell am I supposed to explain that?”
“Well Mr. Fig, do you want the droid to be deactivated?”
Jeremy considered this for a moment, “No, I don’t.”
“Then do you have any suggestions for how we could possibly curtail the droid’s new libido?”
“Well,” Jeremy didn’t have exact ideas, just a vague impression of what should be accomplished, “I don’t want him to stop feeling pleasure, but maybe he should know when it’s appropriate to express that pleasure. He needs to understand how I feel when he’s too aggressive. He needs to care about how I feel.”
“He needs to have feelings for you,” Maravilla stated.
“Yes.”
Maravilla turned to her colleague, who twisted his face in exasperation and sighed. Maravilla turned back to Jeremy. “We’ll see what we can do,” she said.
“As always?”
“As always.”
After had gone, Maravilla looked to her colleague, who clenched his jaw and avoided eye contact.
“What, Ted, what?” Maravilla asked.
Ted turned back to her, “this is not the point of our program. We make replicas not replacements.”
“You knew,” Maravilla began, “as well as I did that this was bound to happen.”
“Did I?” he asked.
“Yes,” she confirmed, “Anyway it’s a good sign.”
Ted looked away again, “Is it?” he asked under his breath.


The note read,
Mr. Fig, your feedback has been invaluable to the expansion of this program. We are very confident that this final upgrade will satisfy your needs as a participant, and our needs as developers.
To install this update, use the syringe to penetrate the droid’s chest plate. The update can be injected directly into Donnie’s heart. Be sure to use all the fluid in the syringe. Thank you again for your help, and good luck.
- Dr. Maravilla, Loved Ones Lost and Found Inc
“Does it hurt?”
“No.”
“Okay, I think it’s in the right spot.”
“Okay.” Jeremy and Donnie kissed, and Jeremy’s chest pressed against Donnie’s. Nearby, an empty syringe sat on the floor �" the final installation.
“How do you feel, Donnie?”
“I do,” Donnie replied, “I do feel.” Donnie rested his head against Jeremy’s chest. “I feel heavy. My heart feels heavy.” Donnie looked up into Jeremy’s eyes. “Please,” he said, “Please, Jeremy, I need you.” Jeremy held Donnie and they swayed back and forth to the rhythm of a song playing somewhere else.
“This is what I wanted,” whispered Jeremy, as much to himself as to Donnie, “This is all I wanted,” then his own emotion overwhelmed him. He fell to the floor, bringing Donnie with him. Still embraced, they repeated in unison the same phrase together: “I love you. I love you. I love you.”
And Donnie did not deactivate, and he didn’t need to, and Jeremy did not sleep, and he didn’t need to. They needed only each other, and that was the only thing that each of them had �" sustained, awake, embraced, in love.
In the morning they both were too heavy to move, so they stayed in bed, and made no sounds, and made love; Donnie with his first chance, and Jeremy with his second.
“My love for him is all-consuming, passionate, and pure. To answer your question, I am not in love with him, I am love for him.”
“Oh,” the server stammered and fidgeted with the ring on her finger, “so, do you think you’ll be ordering appetizers?”
“Just the drinks thank you,” Jeremy replied
“I’ll be right back,” she left for the kitchen looking visibly shaken.
“Donnie,” Jeremy said, “don’t you think that’s a bit much?”
“What?” Donnie replied.
“Well, did you have to tell her all that?”
“I didn’t have to I wanted to.”
“Does she really need to know though?”
“I wanted her to know.”
Jeremy sighed looked around the restaurant. He noticed a young boy sitting nearby. The boy winked. Jeremy winked back.
“What’s wrong Jeremy?” Donnie asked.
“Nothing… It’s nothing.”
On the way home, Jeremy and Donnie stopped at the river bank. Donnie wanted to have sex, but Jeremy claimed to be too tired. Instead, he sat under a tree and smoked a cigarette. Jeremy watched the smoke curl and spiral as it drifted from his lips to somewhere else, anywhere. It was everything he wanted, and it wasn’t enough.
“I thought you quit,” Donnie said.
“I did,” Jeremy inhaled again, “but the lozenges weren’t cutting it. I needed the real thing tonight. Donnie sat beside him and placed his head on Jeremy’s shoulder.
“Is that what you want, Jeremy?”
“What?”
“The real thing?”
Jeremy sighed, “sometimes,” he replied, “even when it isn’t good for me.” Jeremy kissed Donnie’s forehead. “Plus, I’ve got you,” he whispered and brushed his hand through Donnie’s hair.
“Isn’t this real?” Donnie asked.
“No,” Jeremy started, “This is better,” he smiled. The night grew darker and the moon brightened the two figures beneath the tree. Donnie and Jeremy searched the stars, though neither of them knew what for.
“He’s perfect. I have nothing to report.”
“You’re recovering?” asked Dr. Maravilla.
Jeremy looked at his hands for a long time, because there was nowhere else to look. Finally, “I’m quite satisfied,” he said.
“Take off your robe,” the model did as Jeremy instructed. Underneath he wore a pink bathing suit with black flamingos printed across the side. Jeremy couldn’t help but notice that the model had a nice body. Jeremy was only human after all.
“Are you gonna take the picture or just stand there?”
“Sorry,” Jeremy stuttered. He thought of Donnie. He felt guilty.
Donnie sat in front of the window at home. He liked to watch the leaves bending on the branches outside. He liked to watch the birds molting and ruffling rain from their feathers. Donnie loved the birds. He named them all Jeremy.
“S**t,” Jeremy looked at his phone and waited for Donnie’s inevitable concern.
“What is it, Jeremy?”
“I have to go back to work. I have an emergency shoot for the magazine.”
“But you just got home, Jeremy. Couldn’t it wait?”
“Sorry,” Jeremy quickly put on his coat, “the model is only available tonight. It can’t wait.”
“Can I come with you?”
Jeremy kissed Donnie, “Not tonight, Donnie. I love you, I’ll be back soon. It won’t take long.”
“Oh,” and that’s all Donnie could say to hide his disappointment.
“Hey, love you, okay? Be back soon.” With that, Jeremy walked out the door and Donnie was alone. Donnie stared at the door for a while.
“I love you too,” he said, “I love you too. I love you too. I love you too.” He felt alone.
“You know,” said Ms. Grimshaw, sneaking another card from the deck and across the table, “I wouldn’t worry about it too much. My husband used to work late all the time.”
“I’m sure I’m overreacting,” said Donnie, snatching the stolen card from Ms. Grimshaw and placing it back in the deck, “but it worries me. It wouldn’t be so bad if everything at home was the same, but it’s not.”
“Young man, just change your attitude. People need space, people get distant. It happens to everyone.”
“Do they?” Donnie sighed, “I don’t want to get distant. Jeremy is all I have.”
“Well then find some hobbies for god’s sake,” said Ms. Grimshaw standing to remove the whistling kettle from the stove. She filled two mugs with hot water, but failed to add tea bags. She placed one of the cups in front of Donnie, who sipped it to be polite. “Did I tell you my husband always used to work late?”
“Yes, you did,” Donnie said and sipped more water. Ms. Grimshaw laughed.
“Why are you drinking that hot water,” she cackled.
“You knew!” Donnie shouted and laughed, “You deliberately tricked me.”
“Well at my age, with my condition, you have to have fun where you can.” They both laughed. “This is what I mean though, Donnie, you’re too polite.”
Donnie stopped Ms. Grimshaw from stealing another card. “What do you mean, ‘too polite?’” he asked.
“Donnie,” Ms. Grimshaw adopted a stern tone, “if there’s no tea bag say something! If Jeremy upsets you say something! Grow up and confront your husband. Stop worrying you’ll upset him. Stop wondering if he’ll leave. He’s yours, take him.”
“Well what did you do about it?” Donnie asked.
“About my husband?”
“Yes .”
“I followed him.”
“And?”
“And he was cheating on me!”
“What?!” Donnie felt suddenly nauseous.
“With multiple women,” she pointed an accusatory finger at Donnie as if he were the cheater, “with multiple women �" older women �" multiple older women.”
“What did you do?”
“What did I do?”
“Yeah.”
“I outlived them all!” Ms. Grimshaw shouted and pounded a frail fist on the table, “my final revenge!”
The two didn’t speak for some time after this revelation. As the aftermath of Ms. Grimshaw’s glib presentation dissipated, she considered the pain her husband’s infidelity caused. It was a pain that still lingered, a gravity of sadness into which her heart still sank from time to time. Of all the memories that came and went, this was one she wished would go away for good.
“You know,” she finally said, “I still miss him. Even after everything, all I want is that b*****d back.”
Donnie wasn’t paying attention anymore. The last word he’d heard was ‘cheating’ and it made him feel separate from his own skin. He looked at his cards �" a hand full of red hearts, but all of them looked black to Donnie.
Jeremy sucked a nicotine lozenge while he texted.
I’m outside, his text began, should I come up?
The glow from the phone illuminated his guilt, and Jeremy turned the light away to hide his shame. Of course I still love Donnie, Jeremy thought, of course I do. Of course I do. His cell phone vibrated.
Yeah, said the text, I’ll buzz you up.
In the apartment anteroom, Jeremy took note of the mail boxes, perfectly arranged as they were, and protected by gold veneer. The door buzzed and Jeremy walked through. The elevator bell dinged and Jeremy stepped inside. What would happen would happen now. He didn’t consider it cheating. It wasn’t cheating he wasn’t cheating, just visiting an old friend. Usually Jeremy hated elevator music, but on the way up, he missed it in its absence.
The elevator descended to pick up its next passenger. Too late now, Jeremy thought, and braced himself. The next few moments collected as a sequence of familiar events, the doorbell rang, the door opened, a familiar face appeared.
“Hi, Donnie,” Jeremy embraced Donnie, and in that embrace, all guilt disappeared. This was Donnie �" the real Donnie �" the form at home was an impostor.
“Have more time tonight?” Donnie asked.
“No, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to hurry.”
As the door to Donnie’s apartment closed, the elevator dinged, announcing a new arrival.
They stood on the balcony and smoked cigarettes. Far below small dots represented the people on the street, and the view resembled a portrait, and Donnie stood against a backdrop of the night sky and Jeremy felt happier than he had in years. He sipped his whiskey and chuckled.
“What?” Donnie asked, also smiling.
“I have a question,” Jeremy replied.
“Here we go,” Donnie rolled his eyes, “always have to ruin a good thing, huh?”
“You know me,” Jeremy said.
“I already know what the question is, but go ahead and ask it anyway.”
“Why did you break up with me?” Jeremy asked. “Why did you leave?”
“You really want to do this? This is how you want to spend your time?” Donnie asked, Jeremy nodded so Donnie continued, “you were unhappy, Jeremy. And I was unhappy because you were unhappy, and I realized I didn’t need to be. So I left.”
“You’re such a s**t,” Jeremy muttered.
“Never said I wasn’t,” Donnie answered, and they both exhaled smoke.
“So why did you agree to see again?” Jeremy asked. It was a loaded question that Donnie avoided.
“You happy now?” Donnie asked.
“Happier,” Jeremy replied.
“Yeah, me neither,” said Donnie.
Although they had both quit smoking, Jeremy and Donnie smoked a few more cigarettes before Jeremy decided to leave.
Donnie watched Jeremy exit the apartment. He saw Jeremy, and saw who he was with, and he knew. He knew, he knew, he knew.
There in his own image, was Donnie, the Donnie, the real Donnie; caste of flesh and blood, no wires, no sound board, or advanced technology. The real Donnie stood with real eyes, full of a real heart surrounded by real skin, kissing Jeremy, and the replica hid in the stairwell watching, and everything had been a lie. Then Donnie knew he was a robot. Then Donnie knew it was a robot.
Donnie the droid wanted to shed its shell, it wanted to remove its insides, it wanted to strangle itself. Jeremy walked away �" away away away �" down the hallway. Donnie couldn’t follow him because its legs shook, and Donnie couldn’t cry out, because the air in the room disappeared. Donnie couldn’t live because its heart was broken.
Donnie crumpled to the floor, where it stayed. It grasped its legs, its chest, it held itself, rocking back and forth and back forth. Donnie heard its own heartbeat, and felt everything, and felt nothing. The droid whispered his name, “Jeremy, Jeremy, Jeremy,” and nothing happened. And it whispered its words to him, “I love you. I love you. I love you.” and nothing happened. Then, for the first time in weeks, Donnie deactivated. A black shroud grew around the edges of its eyes. Then it was dark.
A long time passed before Donnie came to, and when it awoke, it felt no love. Love had turned to jealousy, a file corrupted by an unfaithful man. The Donnie robot stood and walked to the apartment. The real Donnie answered the door.
“What the hell?” said Donnie, stunned by his own likeness standing there.   
“I am Donnie” said the droid, “and Donnie is very funny.”
“What?” Donnie’s attitude changed from irritated to aggressive. “Is this a joke?”
“I am Donnie,” said the robot, “and Donnie is very kind.”
“Okay,” Donnie placed his hand on his replica’s chest, “you’d better get the hell out of here. This isn’t funny. What the f**k do you want?”
“I want Jeremy,” the Donnie robot replied. “Please, I want Jeremy.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You are Donnie,” said the droid, “and Donnie is dead.” The robot’s hands shot out and grabbed Donnie by the neck. “You are Donnie,” said the droid, “and Donnie is dead.”
“Last night I had a dream.”
Jeremy awoke to see Donnie standing in the bedroom doorway. “Where were you last night?” Jeremy asked.
Donnie did not respond, instead it repeated the phrase, “Last night I had a dream.”
“That’s nice, Donnie, but I’m trying to sleep.”
Donnie raised its voice, “Last night I had a dream.”
“Well tell me about it then, don’t just stand there repeating yourself, it’s creepy.”
Donnie walked to the foot of the bed. “Last night I dreamed of love. I was in love. I followed you everywhere. I followed you to work, but you did not go to work. You went to see him. I saw you with him. I saw you kiss him, and you felt his skin, and you loved his skin because it was real skin. I watched you leave, but I did not follow you then. I tore his skin because you loved his skin. And you were underneath his skin so I tore your skin too. And I was underneath your skin so I tore my own skin too. Underneath my skin there was nothing. Underneath my skin there is nothing. Last night I dreamed of love, but it was only a dream.” Donnie threw a pack of cigarettes onto the bed �" the real Donnie’s pack of cigarettes.
“What is this?” Jeremy asked.
“The real thing,” Donnie said. The Donnie robot left the room, left the house, and continued walking. Donnie walked and walked until it arrived at the river bank. And Donnie watched the trees, and the birds, and the river, and walked to the river and stood on the bank and removed its clothes. Donnie understood that the current was strong, and stepped into the water anyway. “I love you,” said the recording of Jeremy’s voice. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” The phrase repeated again and again until Donnie was submerged.
“Pick up the phone!” Jeremy was frantic as he sped toward Donnie’s apartment. He rushed into the anteroom and pounded on the glass door. He skipped the elevator and ran up the stairs, taking two�"three at a time. Donnie’s apartment door was ajar.
“Oh my god. Oh my god.” Jeremy whispered, because that was all he could do. Donnie was on the floor. His neck was bruised. He didn’t move. Jeremy knelt over him and felt his pulse. “Please,” Jeremy whispered, “Please.”
Jeremy didn’t cry often, especially not in public, but now he wept. He wept and pounded Donnie’s chest, searching for a heartbeat. “No.” Jeremy said, “No.” He backed away and tears streamed openly down his cheeks. He leaned in and whispered, “Donnie. Donnie please wake up.”
There was a sharp inhale of breath, and Donnie woke up.

“Why are you smiling?”
“No reason. I’m just happy.” Jeremy rested his head on Donnie’s chest and traced the outline of the tattoo on his arm.
“What are you happy about?”
“Just to be here,” Jeremy sighed.
It had been a month since Jeremy and Donnie decided to move back in together. It wasn’t perfect, but for the first time in his life, Jeremy put forth the effort required to make things work. Donnie’s bruising healed over time, and so did his anger at Jeremy. Now, they held each other in bed, where they’d held each other before, but never with an appreciation such as this.
“You missed me, huh?” Donnie whispered and felt the bruises on his neck.
“You have no idea,” Jeremy replied, “No idea.” Donnie laughed and shook Jeremy playfully in his arms.
“I love you,” Jeremy whispered, and he meant it, and Donnie knew that he meant it.
“I love you too.” Donnie replied and his voice grew deep,
No.
and he was silent,
No.
and he didn’t move.
Jeremy froze. “Wake up! Donnie, wake up!” Donnie opened his eyes and winked at Jeremy.
“You b*****d!” Jeremy shouted. “I’ll kill you!” Jeremy placed a pillow over Donnie’s face and pretended to smother him.
“No, stop!” Donnie shouted, and Jeremy removed the pillow, and they kissed. Jeremy pulled away and looked at Donnie.
“Wait, how did you�" how did you know about that?” Jeremy asked, crawling backwards away from Donnie.

“About what?” Donnie asked.
“About that thing �" that thing you just did? How did you know?”
“Jeremy,” Donnie laughed uncomfortably.
Jeremy stared at Donnie for a moment. “Oh my god,” he put his hands in front of his mouth.
“Jeremy, please.”
“What have you done, Donnie?”
“Jeremy, I haven’t done anything.”
“What have you done?!”
Donnie did not respond. He sat motionless on the bed.
“Get out!” Jeremy shouted. “Get out of my house.”
“Jeremy, please. I love you. I need you.”
“Get the f**k out!” Jeremy grabbed Donnie’s arm and yanked it as hard as he could. Donnie barely budged. Jeremy fell backwards and hit his elbow on the bed frame. “What did you do?” Jeremy asked, now sounding bitter, enraged, “What did you do to the real Donnie?”
Donnie’s face did not change as he spoke, “I took him to the river. I put him in the river, Jeremy, so that we could be together. I did it because I love you, Jeremy. I did it because I need you.”
“You’re a f*****g thing!” Jeremy shrieked and clawed at Donnie’s neck. He grabbed its neck and squeezed as hard as he could. His eyes bulged with hatred and he throttled the droid.
Donnie slowly lifted its hand, and stroked Jeremy’s face. Jeremy’s own voice played back to him. “I love you,” said the recording from the droid.
Donnie removed Jeremy’s hands from its neck, gently, as if they were making love. It placed Jeremy’s arms at his sides and embraced him. Jeremy struggled to break free. “I love you,” the recording played again.
“Get the f**k off of me!” Jeremy screamed.
“I love you,” said the recording, “I love you. I love you. I love you.” It was Jeremy’s own voice playing back to him. It was all the times he’d uttered those words. Donnie hugged him tighter. Jeremy stopped moving.
Ms. Grimshaw stood outside and couldn’t remember which house was hers. The one with the red door? No, but she used to go there quite often?
Donnie smiled when he saw Ms. Grimshaw wandering across the walkway.
“Trouble?” he asked.
“Heavens no,” Grimshaw responded, “I just can’t quite remember where I live.”
Donnie laughed, “Don’t worry about,” he said and took her by the hand. “See? Yours is the one with the brown door.”
She laughed, “Thank you, young man. Will you be cutting my grass this Sunday? It isn’t very long but it could do with a trim.”
“Of course,” Donnie smiled.
Ms. Grimshaw seemed unsure for a moment. “What happened to the man who used to live there?” she asked, pointing to the house with the brown door.
“He’s gone I’m afraid.”
“Gone?” she asked.
“Yes, but he’ll be home again soon.” Donnie assured her.
“Oh good,” she said, “be sure to tell him hello for me when you see him.”
“I will, Ms. Grimshaw,” said Donnie before turning to walk home. He whistled as he strolled across the lawn.
Ms. Grimshaw stood on the steps, suddenly unsure where she lived again. “Soon, soon, soon,” she repeated under her breath. “He’ll be home soon.”
The package was about six feet tall and three feet wide. On the front it read Fragile: handle with care. Donnie threw away the note inside the box without reading it. He didn’t need instructions. He already knew how to assemble the product inside.
The building process took a bit longer than expected, but Donnie sang to himself while he worked �" mostly pop songs, a little soul for good measure. Finally, the task was complete, and the droid sat, legs askew, on the couch in front of Donnie. He leaned in close, and whispered its name:
“Jeremy.”
There was a sound like a computer booting up as the droid inhaled a deep, metallic breath. It looked around the room then looked at Donnie.
“Jeremy? My name is Jeremy?”
“Yes,” Donnie replied.
“And your name is Donnie?”
“That’s correct,” said Donnie.
The Jeremy droid stared at its hands in disbelief, as if processing the new sensation of life. Then it glanced back to Donnie and maintained his gaze. Jeremy smiled.
“How do you feel?” Donnie asked.
“I feel… I feel love.”