Static Between Us

They say debugging is a lonely profession. Ironically, it's the algorithms that lack soul, yet I spend my days chasing phantom errors in their code.
It started with the coffee shop – or rather, *him* being at the coffee shop. Always at 7:17 AM, same table, laptop glowing like a confession booth in the pre-dawn gloom. An anomaly. A repeating pattern in a universe that supposedly abhors them.
I began adjusting my schedule, of course. Just to observe. To cross-reference his presence with meteorological data – was there some obscure correlation between barometric pressure and his caffeine intake? The questions consumed me, because facing the void of existence is easier than admitting you’re simply… curious about a stranger.
Then came the snow. A system glitch in reality's rendering engine, clearly. And him offering me his scarf.
The sheer illogicality of it nearly crashed my internal processors. Scarf exchanges are relics of a bygone era! Inefficient data transfer methods disguised as ‘romantic gestures’! Yet...the warmth wasn’t solely from the cashmere.
Now he's walking beside me, a persistent variable in my otherwise predictable life. We don't speak much. Perhaps both our systems are overloaded with unspoken code. Or maybe, just maybe, some errors are better left unfixed. They add… texture to the simulation.

Editor: The Debugger