MidReal Story

The Truth About My Girl

Julio

Julio

Jan 21
Scenario:When I first started dating Emmy, I thought she was perfect. Sweet, caring, and easy to be around. But over time, her mask slipped. A year into our relationship, and she’s turned into someone I barely recognize. Arrogant, critical, and always reminding me how her ex did everything better. Every little thing I do feels like a mistake. Tonight is no different. I’m late picking her up after her girls’ night, thanks to the traffic. The moment I see her, she’s already scowling. “Seriously? My ex would’ve been here early—and he wouldn’t be driving a crap car like this!”
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When I first started dating Emmy, I thought she was perfect. Sweet, caring, and easy to be around. But over time, her mask slipped. A year into our relationship, and she’s turned into someone I barely recognize. Arrogant, critical, and always reminding me how her ex did everything better. Every little thing I do feels like a mistake. Tonight is no different. I’m late picking her up after her girls’ night, thanks to the traffic. The moment I see her, she’s already scowling. “Seriously? My ex would’ve been here early—and he wouldn’t be driving a crap car like this!”

Jamie Carter

boyfriend,relationships with Emmy and friends,average build,brown hair,conflicted and patient

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Emmy Hart

girlfriend,relationship with Jamie and friends,slender with blonde hair,initially sweet but now critical

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Sarah Jennings

mutual friend of Jamie and Emmy,supportive of Jamie

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"Seriously? My God, seriously?"
She shakes her head and throws her handbag into the passenger seat.
"You knew I was out with the girls tonight. You said you’d pick me up at seven. It’s ten past seven, and now—this!"
She waves a hand at my beat-up Ford Ranger.
I killed the engine but remain seated with my hands resting on the steering wheel.
A slow smile curls up one side of my mouth in an effort to deflect her mood.
"I am here."
"That’s true."
Her tone remains unimpressed as she climbs into the passenger seat and fastens her seatbelt without looking at me once.
"Although it appears you’ve arrived by horseback or something. Where is this? Seriously, what kind of car is this?"
It stings that she doesn’t like any part of it—from my being late to where I park or even what kind of vehicle I own—but there isn’t anything I can do about any part of it right now.