I Time-Traveled to 2045 and All I Got Was This Lousy Relationship Prediction

Last night, I ate an entire pizza with extra cheese right before bed. Big mistake. Instead of the usual dreams about forgetting to wear pants to a job interview, my overloaded digestive system apparently unlocked time travel. I woke up this morning with vivid memories of 2045, and folks, the future is equally amazing and horrifying.

Picture this: I'm wandering around future-Chicago (now 80% holograms, 20% actual buildings), when I notice everyone wearing these sleek neural interfaces that look like fashionable birthmarks behind their ears. I ask a friendly-looking woman what they're for.

"Oh, these? They're standard RelationScan receivers. You haven't gotten yours yet? You must be visiting from a preservation zone."

Apparently, in 2045, the hottest technology isn't flying cars or teleportation - it's relationship prediction algorithms. People don't just swipe right anymore; they run complete compatibility scans that tell them EXACTLY how long their relationships will last, down to the day. It's like having your heart broken with a countdown timer.

I spent my dream-day following this couple, Bethany and Grayson (because apparently in the future, everyone is named after characters from prestige streaming dramas). They had just met at some tech symposium where they were designing homes that change floor plans based on your mood. They felt that immediate connection - you know, the one where your stomach does that little flip and suddenly you're thinking about what your combined streaming queue might look like.

But instead of exchanging numbers and overthinking text messages like normal humans, they both went home and checked their "RelationScan" results. The AI told them they'd have exactly 2 years, 3 months, and 17 days together before breaking up over career paths and family planning disagreements.

Can you imagine getting an exact expiration date on your relationship? That's like buying milk that says, "Will curdle on June 17th at approximately 8:42 AM, after you've already poured it into your cereal."

Bethany's sister works for PredictLife, the company behind the technology. During their sister-chat (which happens via holograms, naturally), she casually mentions Bethany's poor compatibility scores with Grayson. The movie follows them as they decide to date anyway, despite knowing EXACTLY when and how it will end. This is like watching the Titanic and still booking a cruise on it because "the first part of the journey looks fun!" I mean, who among us hasn't ignored obvious warning signs in relationships? But usually those warning signs aren't calculated by supercomputers with access to your entire dating history and genetic makeup. The whole movie, these two are fighting against the prediction. They move in together (prediction says it'll intensify both the good AND the bad), they get MARRIED (not in the prediction), and Bethany gets a job offer in Singapore (right on schedule, AI gets a gold star).

My favorite character was Grayson's friend who mentions a underground club called "Schrödinger's Cat" where people meet WITHOUT running compatibility checks first. How rebellious! It was funny seeing how everyone obsesses over these predictions. They've replaced horoscopes, but instead of "Libras should avoid making big decisions today," it's "Your relationship will implode next Tuesday at 3:47 PM during an argument about whose turn it is to clean the bathroom."

In 2045, dating profiles would be so efficient: "Looking for a 2-3 year relationship with moderate emotional investment, followed by an amicable separation with minimal social media drama. No ghosting - the algorithm promises we'll end things face-to-face during a rainy Tuesday lunch.

The climax of my time-travel dream happened at the spaceport (because airports are so 2025). Bethany was leaving for Singapore, convinced their relationship was doomed because the algorithm said so. Then Grayson shows up, dramatically announcing he's coming too. The holographic advertisements paused, the quantum transport pods slowed, and I'm thinking: "But what if the AI already calculated he'd do that?"

It's like trying to outsmart your dietary app by eating kale chips instead of regular chips, only to have it smugly announce, "Nice try. Still counting that as emotional eating." Valentine's gifts would come with countdown displays: "Roses are red, violets are blue, we've got 147 days left, so let's make them count, boo!"

The dream ended as Bethany and Grayson boarded their quantum leap pod to Singapore, defying the prediction - or so they thought. But if I've learned anything from my glimpse into 2045, it's that algorithms always have the last laugh. In the future, terms and conditions have evolved into literal relationship clauses with fine print that scrolls through your visual cortex while you sleep.

I woke up this morning feeling strangely grateful for our messy, unpredictable present. At least when my relationships end, I get the dignity of being blindsided like a normal person.

Though I can't help but wonder - if I had access to a RelationScan right now, would I use it? Would you want to know exactly when your heart will be broken? Or is the mystery part of what makes love worth the risk?

All I know for sure is that if you eat an entire pizza before bed, you might just see the future. And that future definitely needs more antacids and fewer algorithms telling us when to give up on love.