SCHAUMBURG, IL — Area man Brad Wilkins, 36, told reporters this week that he has developed “deep, genuine feelings” for the government after receiving his fourteenth notification about an upcoming vehicle registration renewal, describing the relationship as “the most attentive and persistent connection I’ve ever experienced with another entity.”

“No one has ever followed up with me this many times about anything,” said Wilkins, sitting in his living room surrounded by framed DMV notices and a scented candle labeled “New Car Registration Smell.” “My last girlfriend texted me maybe twice a week. The government? Fourteen times in three weeks. Emails, texts, physical mail — they even called. That’s more effort than anyone in my life has ever put into reaching me.”

Wilkins, a mid-level IT consultant who describes himself as “emotionally available but logistically disorganized,” said the relationship began innocently enough in January when he received a standard email from the Illinois Secretary of State’s office reminding him that his vehicle registration was set to expire on February 28.

“I meant to take care of it,” Wilkins said. “But I forgot. And here’s the thing — they didn’t forget about me. They never forget about me. Do you know what that feels like? To be truly unforgettable to someone?”

The Timeline of Love

Wilkins provided reporters with a detailed timeline of the government’s outreach efforts, which he has organized in a binder he calls “Our Story”:

• January 5 — Initial email reminder. “This was the first time they reached out. It was casual. No pressure. Just a ‘Hey, thinking about you and your 2019 Honda Civic.’”
• January 12 — Follow-up email. “They checked in again. Most people don’t do that. Most people send one text and move on with their lives.”
• January 17 — Physical letter via USPS. “They went analog. They took the time to print something on paper, put it in an envelope, and mail it to my house. That’s romance.”
• January 22 — Second physical letter, marked URGENT. “The all-caps ‘URGENT’ really got me. It’s like they were saying, ‘I can’t stop thinking about you and your expired tags.’”
• January 26 — Text message. “They got my cell number. I didn’t give it to them. They just… found me. If a person did that, it would be creepy. But when the government does it, it’s called ‘integrated constituent outreach,’ and honestly, it’s flattering.”
• January 28 through February 10 — Nine additional contacts across email, text, phone, and mail, escalating in urgency and emotional intensity.

“The last letter said, ‘FINAL NOTICE: IMMEDIATE ACTION REQUIRED,’” Wilkins said, his eyes glistening. “No one has ever needed me to take immediate action before. I’m not used to being needed.”

Comparing Past Relationships

Wilkins said the government’s communication style compares favorably to every romantic relationship he’s had.

“My ex-girlfriend Danielle would go days without texting me back,” he said. “The government responds within 24 hours. Sometimes faster. I once called the DMV just to see if they’d pick up, and after only 47 minutes on hold, they did. Danielle never waited 47 minutes for me. She said she had ‘things to do.’ The government also has things to do — it runs an entire country — but it still made time for me.”

He continued: “My college girlfriend once forgot my birthday. You know who never forgets a deadline? The government. They know when my registration expires, when my taxes are due, when my driver’s license needs renewal. They know my address, my Social Security number, my income. That’s intimacy. That’s someone who pays attention.”

Wilkins has reportedly begun referring to the government as “my partner” in casual conversation, a development that has alarmed his social circle.

“He showed up to poker night and said, ‘My partner sent me another letter today,’” said friend and coworker Dave Moretti. “We all said, ‘Oh, you’re seeing someone?’ And he pulled out a DMV notice. We didn’t know what to say. We still don’t.”

Friends Express Concern

Wilkins’ friends and family have grown increasingly worried about what they describe as his “unhealthy attachment to a bureaucratic apparatus.”

“I tried to talk to him about it,” said Wilkins’ sister, Amanda Wilkins-Carr, 39. “I said, ‘Brad, the government isn’t texting you because it cares about you. It’s texting you because it wants your money.’ And he just looked at me and said, ‘That’s what you said about Danielle, and you were right about her too, but at least the government is upfront about it.’”

Wilkins’ mother, Gloria Wilkins, 64, said she initially supported her son’s new relationship.

“I was just happy he was getting attention from someone,” she said. “But then he started printing out emails from the IRS and putting them in picture frames. He has a framed W-2 on his nightstand. I asked him about it and he said, ‘Mom, they calculated my adjusted gross income. No one has ever adjusted anything for me before.’”

Therapist Says This Is Fine

Wilkins has been seeing therapist Dr. Carmen Alvarez for three years, primarily for what he describes as “attachment issues and a fear of being forgotten.” Dr. Alvarez told reporters that Wilkins’ relationship with the government is “actually quite healthy, all things considered.”

“Brad has historically struggled with partners who are emotionally unavailable,” Dr. Alvarez said. “The government, say what you will about it, is extremely available. It’s always there. It’s always reaching out. It never takes a day off — well, it takes every federal holiday off, but it always comes back. For someone with Brad’s attachment style, this is actually an ideal match.”

She continued: “Most of Brad’s previous relationships ended because his partners found him ‘too much.’ The government is also ‘too much.’ They’re perfect for each other.”

When asked whether she had any concerns about the relationship, Dr. Alvarez paused. “My only concern is that the government might be moving too fast. Fourteen contacts in three weeks is a lot. But Brad seems happy, and in my professional opinion, happiness is happiness, even if it comes in the form of a vehicle registration renewal notice.”

The Framed Registration Notice

The centerpiece of Wilkins’ living room is now a framed copy of his original registration renewal notice, displayed in a mahogany shadow box above his fireplace. He has added a small brass plaque beneath it that reads: “The Day They Found Me — January 5, 2026.”

“People frame love letters,” Wilkins said defensively when asked about it. “This is a love letter. It says, ‘Dear Bradley R. Wilkins, your vehicle registration for plate number IL-B4D7729 is set to expire.’ They used my full name. They know my middle initial. My last girlfriend thought my middle name was Robert. It’s Raymond. The government knows it’s Raymond.”

Wilkins has also begun scrapbooking his government correspondence, organizing it chronologically in a leather-bound album titled “Letters From My Beloved.” The album includes every email printout, text message screenshot, and physical letter, each annotated with Wilkins’ personal reflections.

One annotation, written beneath a late-fee notice from the city water department, reads: “They noticed I was late. They care enough to notice.”

The DMV’s “Outreach Program”

The Illinois Secretary of State’s office, for its part, confirmed that Wilkins’ experience is consistent with their expanded Digital and Physical Outreach Program (DPOP), which was implemented in 2025 to reduce the number of lapsed vehicle registrations.

“We send a lot of reminders,” said DPOP coordinator Linda Fassett. “Our goal is to make sure no registration goes unrenewed. If that means sending fourteen notifications, we send fourteen notifications. If it means fifteen, we send fifteen. We don’t give up on people.”

When told that one citizen had interpreted the outreach as a romantic gesture, Fassett paused for a long moment.

“That’s… new,” she said. “But I guess I can see it. We are very persistent. We do follow up. We do track people across multiple communication channels. When you describe it like that, it does sound like we’re courting them.”

She added: “Our next phase includes home visits for citizens who haven’t responded after twenty contacts. So… I suppose that could be interpreted as a first date.”

Wilkins Considers “Taking It To The Next Level”

Wilkins told reporters he is considering “taking the relationship to the next level” by voluntarily signing up for additional government programs and notifications.

“I enrolled in FEMA alerts, weather warnings, CDC updates, and the USDA food recall system,” he said. “Now I get messages from like six different agencies. It’s like being in a polyamorous relationship, except all the partners are branches of the same entity. It’s the most loved I’ve ever felt.”

He has also begun responding to the automated messages with personal updates about his day, though he acknowledged that he has not received a reply to any of them.

“They’re just not great texters,” he said. “But they show love in other ways. Like, last week I got a jury duty summons. They want to spend time with me. In a courthouse. For possibly weeks. That’s commitment.”

“I know people think this is weird,” Wilkins added, gazing at his framed registration notice. “But when you’ve spent your whole life feeling invisible, and then an enormous bureaucratic institution with 2.1 million employees sends you fourteen messages in three weeks just because it wants $151 from you… I don’t know. It just hits different.”

At press time, Wilkins had renewed his vehicle registration but immediately let his driver’s license lapse, telling friends he “wasn’t ready for the communication to stop.”