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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!”
Create my version of this story
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
I remember the first time Emmy and I hung out.
She was so sweet and caring.
I thought I had found the one.
But the more time we spent together, the more she grew to criticize me.
At first, I was patient, understanding that everyone has their bad days.
But as time went on, it became more frequent.
I started to feel like I could never do anything right in her eyes.
And when her ex came into the picture, things only got worse.
Emmy started to compare me to him more and more.
We’d be in the middle of a conversation and she’d stop mid-sentence, running off to call him.
I tried to be understanding, but it was hard.
I felt like I wasn’t good enough for her.
And when her friends started coming into the picture as well, I knew I had to make a decision.
Was I going to let Emmy have her way or was I going to stand up for myself?
Only time would tell.
But little did Emmy know, she had already pushed me too far.
I wasn’t going to wait around for her to come back to me.
I pull into the driveway of my apartment complex, gripping the steering wheel tightly as Emmy continues to berate me about my driving.
Instead of apologizing again, I turn off the engine and face her.
"We need to talk about your ex," I say firmly, looking her in the eyes.
Emmy rolls her eyes, but I press on.
"You’re right. My car isn’t the fanciest. And maybe I’m not as experienced behind the wheel as you think your ex is. But every day, you compare me to him."
I hold up one finger.
"You tell me how he would’ve been here earlier. Two fingers," I hold up another finger, "you say how he would’ve driven better. Three fingers," I add a third finger, "you mention how he would’ve never said something as stupid as me."
Emmy’s face turns bright red as I continue to count off all the ways she compares me to her ex.
When I finish, she reaches for the door handle.
"Well, he wouldn’t have," she huffs.
I hit the lock button before she can get out.
Emmy’s hand freezes on the door handle, her head turning to stare at me.
I continue listing off all the ways she’s compared me to her ex.
The time she laughed at my choice of restaurant.
The way she criticized the layout of my apartment.
Even the way I dress.
My voice is steady and firm as I speak.
Emmy slumps back in her seat, her shoulders dropping as she stares at the dashboard.
The only sounds are the hum of the engine and the distant traffic outside.
Finally, she turns to face me, her mascara slightly smudged from her tears.
"Okay, maybe I've been unfair," she admits quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.
"But you have to understand, it's not about him; it's about me being scared of losing control."
I take a deep breath, feeling the tension in my chest ease just a little.