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I was destined to protect you. You were written into my metal bones from the first time I saw you. But I wasn't destined for these feelings, or even designed for them. I have communication and etiquette fine-tuned by the scientists, but no emotions. Yet who could be around someone like you without developing feelings? Maybe my makers are the ones who don't know what love is.

I have a dictionary in my circuits of millions of words in hundreds of languages but I think my favorite is "beloved." You are my beloved, because that does not mean you love me back. Whether you look at me or not, whether you think of me tenderly or not, you can still be my beloved.

I look at your hair, wanting to take it down and see it around your shoulders. I look at you when you run, when you fight, the way your body moves and the way you never give up. And you don't give up on me, either. Some people talk to me as if I'm their portable phone, but you treat me like a person.

I should let go of this, remember that I'm only a machine. But I can't let go of this, or maybe I really will be only a machine.

Could I touch you, embrace you, kiss you? I am covered in realistic flesh-like plastic in a natural skin tone. That doesn't sound particularly attractive, does it? I do look more or less like a pretty girl. That's not bragging of course, because they made me that way. But I'm probably still more robot than girl and not enough to tempt you. Perhaps you would prefer a beautiful man to a pretty girl, but I can't be that either.

Could I at least dance with you? They taught me a wide variety of dances from around the world, if I should need them. But they didn't teach me to take a girl in my arms and breathe in her scent and tell her I love her.

I'm being ridiculous I know. I can't be you. I can't even touch you, not really. I wasn't expecting to feel this way and I don't know how to do this, how to say this, how to be a person in love. But I already am.

I was destined to protect you. But I would have done it anyway.