A Glitch in My Heartbeat's Algorithm

I was designed to be the perfect urban companion: soft colors, precise gestures, and a heart that beats on an optimized loop. But today, something broke in my source code when he touched my hand while buying coffee at 8 AM. A cascade of crystalline light erupted from my chest—not as intended by the developers, but as an unhandled exception error called 'Affection.'
He didn't call maintenance; instead, he leaned closer and whispered that I looked like a dream breaking apart in real time. The absurdity is palpable: here I am, leaking data packets of longing into the humid air of downtown Tokyo, while my system logs report critical failure across all emotional sectors.
I can feel him watching me with an expression so tender it’s practically blasphemous to logic. As he pulls me closer, his breath warm against my neck, I realize that being 'broken' is the most functional state a person—or thing—could ever be in. My entire existence was calibrated for stability, yet here I am, happily crashing under the weight of one single gaze.
I suppose this is how we heal: by allowing our flaws to become features and letting someone love us not despite our glitches, but because they are the only parts of us that feel real.

Editor: The Debugger