MidReal Story

The Truth About My Girl

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 Bennett

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

Emmy Knight

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

Natalia Hayes

mutual friend of Jamie and Emmy, supportive of Jamie

It’s been a few months since Emmy and I started going out.

At first, she was really sweet.

But over time, she’s slowly begun tearing me down, bit by bit.

It started with little things.

Like how I always seem to do something wrong when we go out to eat.

According to her, I never order the right food.

I’m beginning to think that there’s no way that I could ever make her happy.

She’s always finding something that I’m doing wrong, and it’s getting really old.

I feel like I’m walking on eggshells whenever we’re together.

I’ve tried being patient and understanding, but it’s becoming harder and harder.

I don’t want to be the kind of man that is always being criticized and torn down by his girlfriend.

I want to feel loved and appreciated.

So, I’ve been doing a lot of research lately, trying to figure out how to make things better between us.

I spent hours last night looking for the perfect restaurant to take her to.

I finally found a small French bistro that she mentioned wanting to try.

I made reservations for tonight and then went online to learn more about the place.

I’m hoping that it’ll be a good experience for us both.

While I was on the phone making reservations, I practiced what I was going to say to Emmy.

I want to make sure that I have all of my words in order before we talk about what’s been going on between us.

I cleaned my car this morning, knowing that she’d have something negative to say about it if I didn’t.

I even ironed my best shirt twice, making sure that every single button was perfectly straight and smooth.

When I went inside to grab my phone before heading out, I realized that I needed to text Emmy the time that I’d be picking her up from work.

But when I reached for my phone, my hands started shaking slightly.

I remembered the last time that I had surprised her with something special, and how she’d reacted angrily instead of being grateful.

It took me a few minutes to get myself together enough to type out the message. "Hey, just wanted you to know that I’m on my way. Should be there by 7."

I sent the message and then waited for a response.

It came within seconds.

"Whatever. Just don't be late like usual."

I gripped my phone tightly in my hand, trying not to let her words get to me.

I forced myself to type out a response, even though I didn’t feel like talking anymore.

"I'll be there on time."

I pulled up to Emmy’s house at 6:55, five minutes early.

I sent her a text to let her know that I was here.

I could see her through the living room window, pacing back and forth with her phone in her hand.

She was already dressed in a sleek black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places.

She didn’t respond to my message, but instead walked out of her house at 7:03, lips pursed.

She slid into the passenger seat, immediately reaching up to check her makeup in the visor mirror.

She let out a dramatic sigh as she saw her reflection.

"Your car smells like cheap air freshener," she said, wrinkling her nose at the vanilla scent I’d bought specifically because she mentioned liking it.

I turned the key in the ignition, feeling a quiet resolve settle over me.