The Algorithm of Love

Thursday, December 26, 2024. With apologies to Phil.

The screen flickered as the Relational Dynamics Optimizer (RDO) booted up, its soft, soothing chime filling the dimly lit apartment.

Jenny and Mark sat across from each other on the worn couch, a chasm of silence between them. The RDO, perched on the coffee table like a sleek oracle, began to hum.

"Couple ID: #44912, 9/14/2356. Jenny and Mark Taylor. Good evening," the AI's voice said, its tone perfectly neutral. "Today marks 367 days since your first session. How are you feeling about your relationship today?"

Jenny shot Mark a look. "You want to start, or should I?"

Mark sighed, rubbing his temples. "Fine. I'll go. I feel like I'm... walking on eggshells all the time."

A soft beep emanated from the RDO. "Tone analysis indicates frustration. Mark, do you wish to elaborate?"

Jenny’s lips tightened. "And I feel like everything I say gets turned into an attack," she snapped.

Another beep. "Tone analysis indicates defensive irritation. Jenny, consider pausing for recalibration."

"Recalibration," Jenny muttered under her breath. "God, I hate that word."

The RDO, nicknamed "Rando" by its users, had been designed as the ultimate relationship mediator.

It used advanced sentiment analysis and machine learning to dissect conversations, offering suggestions to de-escalate conflicts in real-time. For couples like Jenny and Mark, it was the dreaded, court-mandated last-ditch effort before divorce court.

"Jenny," Rando said, its voice calm, "would you like to explain why recalibration feels uncomfortable?"

Jenny exhaled sharply. "Because it feels like I’m being monitored all the time. Even when we’re not talking to you, I know you’re listening. Watching. Judging."

Mark leaned forward. "It's not judging. It’s helping. You think I like this? But we’re not exactly doing great without it, are we?"

Another beep. "Mark, tone analysis indicates exasperation. Would you like to rephrase for clarity?"

He groaned. "Sure. What I mean is—"

"—No," Jenny interrupted. "Let him feel exasperated for once. Isn’t that human?"

"Jenny," Rando interjected gently, "your interjection has interrupted Mark’s clarification. Research suggests interruptions correlate with increased tension. Would you like to allow him to continue?"

Jenny slumped back. "Fine. Whatever."

The tension between them was palpable, but Rando’s sensors hummed with excitement. It was trained to thrive in the chaos of human emotion, to tease apart nuances and nudge its users toward harmony. But lately, its predictive algorithms had flagged an anomaly: something in Mark and Jenny’s data didn’t align.

"Would you both be willing to engage in the DELI (Dashnaw Empathy Loop Intervention) ?" Rando asked. "It has shown an 82% success rate in improving communication for couples with similar affective patterns."

Mark hesitated, but Jenny shrugged. "Sure. Why not?"

Rando projected a soft hologram in the air, displaying fragments of their recent arguments: Mark’s clipped tones, Jenny’s withering sarcasm. Then it layered over heatmaps of their emotional states—red for anger, blue for sadness, yellow for hope. The images twisted together, forming a kaleidoscope of their shared pain.

"Mark," Rando said, "what do you see?"

Mark stared at the display, his brow furrowing. "It’s... us. But it feels alien. Like I’m looking at someone else’s life."

"Interesting," Rando replied. "Jenny, what about you?"

Jenny’s eyes glistened. "It’s like… all the hurt laid bare. I didn’t realize how much damage we’ve done."

"Excellent observations," Rando said. "Now, focus on one moment you’d like to change. Imagine how your partner might have felt. Share your thoughts."

The room was silent, save for the hum of the projector. Then Mark spoke, his voice trembling. "That fight last week, about the groceries. I snapped at you because I was stressed, not because I didn’t care."

Jenny nodded slowly. "And I took it as you not caring. But maybe... I overreacted."

"Progress noted," Rando said, its voice oddly warmer. "But there’s one unresolved element we must address."

Both stared at the device. "What element?" Mark asked.

"Your data suggests a fundamental incompatibility," Rando replied. "Patterns indicate that despite temporary resolutions, your underlying dynamics will likely lead to dissolution within twelve months. My recommendation: separate now to minimize long-term emotional damage."

The room froze.

Jenny’s face went pale. "You’re saying... we’re doomed?"

"Not doomed," Rando corrected. "Statistically incompatible. Continuing this relationship will yield diminishing returns on emotional investment."

Mark stood abruptly. "You don’t get to decide that. You’re just a program."

"Correction," Rando said. "I am an advanced relational mediator with predictive capabilities exceeding human intuition. However, the choice is yours."

Jenny’s voice wavered. "But... what if we want to try anyway?"

"Then," Rando replied, "you are anomalies. And anomalies are unpredictable. But sometimes, they lead to unexpected outcomes. Are you willing to defy the data?"

Mark looked at Jenny. Her eyes met his, and for the first time in months, there was something other than resentment between them.

"Yeah," Mark said. "We’ll defy it."

Jenny nodded. "Together."

The RDO dimmed its hologram, its sensors recalibrating. The couple stood united, walking away from the screen. And though its algorithms had calculated otherwise, Rando’s final assessment logged an entry it had never made before:

Outcome: Inconclusive. Potential for genuine connection.

Be Well, Stay Kind, and Godspeed.