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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 a few months since Emmy and I started going out.
At first, she was really sweet.
But over time, she’s changed.
Now she's always on my case about something.
I feel like I can’t do anything right anymore.
And to make matters worse, she’s always comparing me to her ex, who was a real asshole.
I try to be patient and understanding.
I figure that she’s just going through a tough time, and that things will eventually get better.
But it’s hard to keep my cool when she’s constantly finding fault in me and its always like I’m competing with her ex, who was a bastard.
One day, we’re hanging out at home and watching a movie.
I’m sitting on the couch and she’s curled up beside me.
Halfway through the film, she gets up to use the bathroom.
When she comes back, she’s changed into a nightgown and her hair is down.
She looks really beautiful and I can’t help but let her know.
"You look great."
I tell her, taking in her slender figure.
"Thanks," she says, smiling slightly.
But then her smile fades and she looks at me critically.
"I wish you’d get your hair cut," she says, shaking her head.
"You know I don’t like it this long."
Emmy has been on my case about my hair for weeks now.
I run my fingers through my hair self-consciously, feeling how long it’s gotten.
It brushes the collar of my shirt.
She’s still standing there, arms crossed, waiting for a proper response.
The movie plays on in the background, forgotten.
I pull out my phone and open my calendar.
I know that she’s not going to let this go until I make a concrete appointment.
"Tuesday at 3 would work. That's when Mark used to get his done."
I bite back a retort and book the appointment.
"Why do you always have to bring him up?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Because he knew how to listen," she replies, a hint of frustration in her voice.
"Maybe if you stopped comparing us, you'd see I'm trying to be here for you," I say, hoping she'll understand.
She leans back against the couch cushions, her eyes fixed on me.
I can feel the weight of her expectations bearing down on me.
"I'm just saying, he knew how to listen. He'd ask me questions and really hear what I had to say."
Her voice is sharp with disappointment.
I drum my fingers against my knee, trying to figure out what to say next.
The TV drones on in the background, forgotten.
Emmy pulls out her phone and checks it, muttering something about Mark's thoughtful late-night texts.
I feel a churning in my stomach, but I force myself to meet her eyes.
"You're right," I say, my voice steady even as my jaw clenches.
"I'll work on being a better listener."
She nods, but the silence between us feels like a chasm I can't cross.