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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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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 three months since Emmy and I started dating.
At first, everything was perfect.
We would go out every weekend, have picnics in the park, and watch movies together.
She was sweet, gentle, and caring.
Or so it seemed.
Over the past few weeks, I’ve noticed that she’s changed.
She’s become more critical.
"Jamie, you should get a haircut. My ex used to have this hair, and he always pulled it off better than you," she said the other day when we were at the mall together.
I tried to brush it off, but she’s been making comments like that ever since.
I pull into a parking spot outside her apartment building and turn off the engine.
She’s still ranting about my car, so I grip the steering wheel tightly and stare ahead.
"Look at these seats. They’re so worn out. My ex would never have a car with seats like this," she says, running her hand over the leather.
I sigh and turn to face her.
"Emmy, I’m sorry I was late. There was an accident on the road, and it took me a while to get here."
But she cuts me off before I can continue.
"My ex would never be late. He was always there when he said he would be."
I can feel my patience wearing thin.
I look up at the building entrance and see Natalia watching us from the doorway.
She looks concerned, and I wonder if she can hear Emmy’s loud voice.
I turn back to Emmy, who is still going on about how great her ex was.
"My ex would never wear a shirt like that. He always dressed better than you," she says, pointing at my shirt.
Something inside of me snaps.
I’ve been holding back from saying anything for months now, but I can’t take it anymore.
"Emmy, do you even hear yourself? You talk more about your ex than you do about us," I say, my voice trembling with frustration.
She pauses, her eyes narrowing. "Maybe that's because I never got over him," she admits, her voice barely a whisper.
I feel a chill run down my spine as the weight of her words sinks in.
I sit there in silence, the only sound the ticking of the car’s engine.
The air has grown colder, and I can see my breath as I exhale.
I look up at Natalia, who is still watching us from the doorway.
She looks like she wants to say something but doesn’t know what.
"Jamie, I think you should go," Emmy says finally, her voice cold and detached.
I nod and turn the key in the ignition.
The car roars to life, and I pull out of the parking spot.
As I drive away, I can feel Emmy’s eyes on me.
I don’t look back, knowing that she’s watching me leave for good.
I pull into a parking spot outside Emmy’s apartment building and turn off the engine.
She’s sitting in the passenger seat next to me, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes fixed on the dashboard.
I can tell that she’s upset about something, but I’m not sure what it is.
"Hey, are you okay?"
I ask, reaching out to touch her arm.
She shakes me off and continues to stare straight ahead.
"I just don’t understand why you have to be late all the time," she says finally, her voice trembling with anger. "I’m sorry. There was an accident on the road, and it took me a while to get here," I explain, feeling a mix of concern and frustration.
She sighs heavily and turns to look at me.
"My ex would never be late like this," she says, shaking her head.
"He was always there when he said he would be."
I nod sympathetically, trying not to take offense at her words.
It’s clear that she’s still hurting from their breakup, and I want to be understanding and supportive.
But as we continue driving in silence, I can’t help but wonder if she’ll ever truly let go of him and move on with her life.
We pull up to her apartment building and Emmy gets out of the car quickly without saying a word to me.
I watch as she walks up the path towards the entrance of the building, wondering what was going through her mind tonight.
As I drive away from Emmy’s apartment building, I can’t shake off the feeling of unease that has settled in my stomach. The words that Emmy spoke earlier still echo in my head like a mantra: "My ex would never be late like this."
It was as if she had been waiting for an opportunity to lash out at me all night long.
I step out of the car and call after her, "Emmy, wait. Can we talk about this?"
She stops but doesn't turn around. "What's there to talk about, Jamie? You know how I feel."
I take a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady. "I just need to know if there's any part of you that wants to move forward with us, or if you're still stuck in the past."