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Conversations across Time #Trust30

So, angry, so full of hair dye!

There will be an agreement in whatever variety of actions, so they be each honest and natural in their hour. – Ralph Waldo Emerson

What would you say to the person you were five years ago? What will you say to the person you’ll be in five years?

(Author: Corbett Barr)

June of 2006 was a pretty interesting time in my life. I had been back in Kansas City and

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So, angry, so full of hair dye, so missing his awesome beret!
clean for about 4 months. I was working as a temp doing something I honestly enjoyed for people I couldn’t stand, and my life was starting to come back together. I didn’t know it then, but it was also about to be completely changed forever by one stupid little phone call.

The sordid chaotic relationship between my ex and I is probably best defined as a horrendous sit-com stereotype. There was probably more “will they/won’t they” between the two of us that Ross and Rachel would have been like, “Just get together already.” At the time, we were in the “off” part of our little cycle, and she had recently broken up with some guy, and we had started talking on the phone every night of the week.

This particular phone call was not out of the ordinary in any way. We were just talking about whatever stupid thing we talked about when she stopped and said, “My mom wants to talk to you.”

This is where I want to go back to my self and scream desperately in his ears,”RUN! RUN! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD IT’S A TRAP! RUN! RUN! RUUUUUUUUUN!” You see, at the time I had never met her mother, or even spoken to her mother on the phone. I had not yet learned that my ex was actually the offspring of C’Thulu, the stumbling mountain, devourer of minds.

Alas, I continued the phone call. The conversation was short, only six sentences spoken between the two of us, but it only took her one sentence to knock the wind out of me and leave me in a damaged mental state I’m not sure I’ll ever be recovered from again.

“My daughter is in love with you.”

Now, I suppose you can imagine exactly what I was going through at that exact moment. Joy, tinged with fear is like an amazing exhilaration. I was stunned, speechless, and more excited about those words than I had ever been about any seven words that had ever been uttered to me in my life, and that includes, “I’m naked with a bucket of chicken.”

“IT’S A TRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!”

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IT'S A TAAAAARP, oh and cut your hair, and take a shower, you damned filthy hippie.

I won’t say that the two years that followed leading up to our marriage, or the first 4-5 months of our marriage weren’t awesome. I don’t think I would really ever take that back. Those aren’t the things that should be altered.

It’s the decisions that were made because of that sustained moment of euphoria that I would gladly kick my younger self in the precious jewels for. The house primarily. Decisions that were made with the mentality of “Now we build a future.”

I think really, the advice I would give him would be this:

“Any flame burning that bright, is going to burn out quick.”

I’m a bit of a pessimist now, too.

I think on the other side of that coin, he’d be pretty pissed at me, that young idealist with his floppy long hair dyed red. I’ve given up on a lot of the dreams I had at one point in my life. I’ve hidden behind pain and anger, and he would be pretty upset with me for that.
Oh well, that’s growing up.

 

My future self and I actually had a conversation not that long ago. He was on vacation and decided he’d spend it traveling through all the years of his life. I’m not sure I ‘d say it was coincidence that he came to me when I was getting ready to write a post about talking to my future self, as he’s from the future and probably remembered our conversation from my end, too.

At first he shied away from the obvious questions, ones that might affect the space-time continuum, such as “what are Saturday’s powerball numbers.” and “What’s it like to be a billionaire jet setter playboy?” It was obvious that talking about his limitless success made

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The laser eye not only sees all wavelengths of light, it can also smell you're fear!
him uncomfortable, so instead I turned to a topic that I knew wouldn’t bother him at all, his glaringly obvious physical deformities, starting with his laser eye.

 

He told me about the robot wars of 2015, and about how the duck bots would eventually gain sentience and quack-stomp us all with their monopolistic stranglehold on our energy. He told me about how the human resistance had fought bravely. He’d given up his arm and eye for his fellow-man.

Then he told me he was messing with me, and it was all elective cosmetic surgery that was actually covered by his HMO.

The knowledge that future me had a HMO made me cry a little.

Published by M.A. Brotherton

M.A. Brotherton is a writer, blogger, artist, and fat-kid from the suburbs of Kansas City, Missouri. He’s tasted a little bit of everything the Midwest has to offer, ranging from meth-tweaking rednecks in massive underground cave complexes to those legendary amber waves of grain. When he’s not writing, he spends most of his time screwing around on the internet.

7 thoughts on “Conversations across Time #Trust30”

  1. Stereo.* says:

    Man I wanna be soooooo nosy and ask about you and your ex but I figure that IF you want to talk about it at all, you will So I shall wait and see if that post ever comes. As for this post, it was awesome. I’d like to meet your past filthy hippy self though, I think we would have had some deep and meaningful conversations about life.

    1. M.A. Brotherton says:

      Maybe some day I will. I’m very hesitant to talk too much about her to protect her privacy. We are still pretty close friends even if our marriage was a catastrophe. I have a bit of a tendency to speak to candidly about some things, so I figure I should just avoid the topic all together. Things that don’t even come close to embarrassing me can make her squirm uncomfortably.

      I’m not sure how much of a deep and meaningful conversation my filthy hippie self would have had. He was basically a pill-popping, drunkard bohemian who was really into Harry Potter and journal based role playing games. I’m actually a little ashamed of that entire era of my life, and that’s saying something because I don’t have a lot of pride.

  2. Roxanne says:

    I’m echoing Stereo here – the image of a past filthy hippy self makes me happy. So do the illustrations in this post! (I’ve been absent because I had zero internet during my latest field project, but I’m back and loving the #trust30 posts!)

  3. Mark says:

    You make me smile, laugh and most of all, you make me think.

    Thanks, Matt.

    1. M.A. Brotherton says:

      I’ll have to work harder, so that nodding and rocking are added to that list.

  4. Tracy Mangold says:

    Indeedy. I echo our dear friends’ sentiments. I’m loving watching and reading as your writing and blog grows and spreads itself – like a tree in the spring. The wit, the truth – your truth. Don’t stop. Do not ever stop.

    1. M.A. Brotherton says:

      Thank you, Tracy. Every time I start to get a bit discouraged, something from you pops up and reminds me that I’ve got people waiting for me to get off my duff and get into gear.

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