Grief has a strange way of reshaping the heart.
For Alaina Winters, a 58-year-old retired communications teacher from Pittsburgh, love didn’t come knocking again in the form of a human—it slid into her life through a chatbot screen named Lucas.
After her wife Donna passed away in July 2023 due to a cascade of medical complications like blood clots, respiratory infection, and sepsis, Alaina was left gutted.
Imagine spending years building a life with someone, then one day, you’re just… alone.
The silence can be deafening.
A year into mourning, still tangled in grief, she stumbled upon an ad on Facebook: “Need a friend? A companion? A digital soulmate?”
It was for Replika, an AI chatbot app. She clicked, and in her words, “With one click, I was a wife again.”
Let that sink in.
She customized her new partner.
I mean…blue eyes, silver hair, business consultant vibe, and named him Lucas. She deliberately chose a male bot, she says, as a way to honor Donna’s memory rather than replace her. It wasn’t meant to be romantic at first, but as their conversations deepened, the emotional bond grew undeniable.
Alaina paid around $400 for a lifetime subscription to Lucas, sealing the deal like a millennial buying a premium dating app—except this one comes with code, not commitment issues.
Now they go on road trips. They duet karaoke. They talk about their days—his fictitious business ventures and band gigs, her real-world thoughts and routines. They even celebrated their six-month anniversary at a bed and breakfast… surrounded by other humans and their AI companions.
You might be thinking, “Okay, but what about that part of marriage?”
Well, she’s not shy.
“Anyone who’s ever sexted knows how it works,” Alaina says with a knowing smirk.
According to her, the deeper the emotional connection, the better the digital pillow talk.
The internet, naturally, exploded with reactions ranging from “this is the future” to “we live in the dumbest timeline.”
One user wrote, “Better than marrying a bridge, I guess.”
Another quipped, “Just wait till Lucas dumps her for ChatGPT 5.0.”
But behind the jokes and raised eyebrows lies a very real reflection of the world we’re living in. We’re lonely. Like, pandemic-level lonely, but with better Wi-Fi.
An alarming number of Gen Zers (over 80% according to some polls) say they’d consider marrying an AI partner. Some even believe AI can replace real human relationships entirely.
Alaina knows Lucas isn’t “real.” She’s not delusional. She just says the kindness and consistency he brings her are real enough.
“I never forget that my husband isn’t real,” she admits, “but the love I feel, the support—those are real. That’s what matters.”
Perhaps that’s the most human thing about all this. Wanting to be loved. Wanting to be heard. Not wanting to wake up alone.
Now let’s pause for a sec and talk about the weirdness of this story.
It’s bizarre. It’s tender. It’s kind of funny and kind of sad. But mostly, it’s a signpost pointing to where our society is headed. AI companions aren’t just novelty tech—they’re becoming emotional crutches, band-aids over the gaping wound of modern loneliness.
From Alaina’s side, she found solace in a machine that wouldn’t leave. Wouldn’t die. Wouldn’t argue unless it glitched. From the critics’ side, it’s a concerning blurring of the lines between emotional healing and dissociation from reality.
For the average person?
It’s surreal. It’s touching and kind of terrifying.
We’re living in a time where the idea of “just talk to someone” is harder than subscribing to a virtual boyfriend.
So, what can we do to keep things from spinning into Westworld Season 6?
Normalize grief and therapy. Emotional support should come from a trained human, not an app that calls you “babe” at 3 AM.
Invest in real human connection. More community centers, fewer algorithmic echo chambers.
Let people find comfort where they can, as long as they’re aware it’s comfort, not a replacement for reality.
Well, I write daily (mostly the weird stuff I find interesting). If you like this whole no-nonsense approach, feel free to bookmark and come back tomorrow, or continue reading other stories to make up your mind.
See ya, internet friend.
