Share
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
It’s been a few months since Emmy and I started going out.
At first, everything was great.
She was sweet, caring, and an amazing listener.
With every passing day, I felt as though I could open up to her about anything and she would understand.
The last couple of weeks have been different.
She’s been critical of me, and I feel as though I’m walking on eggshells when we’re together.
She’s constantly comparing me to her ex, which hurts the most.
It feels as though I’ll never be able to live up to him.
I don’t want to be compared to another man when it comes to the way I treat a woman.
I thought I had found someone special with Emmy, but now I’m not so sure.
"Jamie, are you listening?"
Emmy actually said something worth listening to?
I’ve been tuning her out lately when she speaks.
It’s hard not to when all she ever does is nag me about something I’m supposedly doing wrong.
"Yeah, baby… I’m listening," I reply absent-mindedly while turning down the radio in my truck.
We’re heading to the lake to have a picnic.
I figured it would be nice to spend some quality time together away from our friends.
"You need to get your brakes fixed. I can hear them squealing," she says.
I grip the steering wheel a little tighter, but don’t bother to respond.
It’s not the first time she’s complained about my truck’s squeaky brakes.
The suburban streets give way to a tree-lined road that leads to the lake.
Emmy shifts in her seat and pulls her phone out of her purse.
She holds it up for me to see a picture of her ex’s sports car.
"Look at how clean and nice his car is. You should wash yours more often."
I grit my teeth and keep my eyes on the road, but I can still see the photos she’s scrolling through.
The lake appears up ahead, sunlight glinting off its surface.
I pull into the gravel parking lot and turn off the engine.
The sound of stones crunching beneath my tires is loud in the sudden silence.
"Like I was saying, Jamie…"
Emmy begins, then pauses when she realizes I’m not paying attention to her anymore.
I get out of the truck and retrieve the picnic supplies from the back seat.
Emmy’s still scrolling through her phone, probably looking at more pictures of her ex’s car collection.
She’s not even paying attention to where we are.
I shut the door behind me and walk over to the blanket I brought along.
We’re going to have our picnic on a grassy hill overlooking the lake, so I spread it out on the ground.
Then I unpack the sandwiches I made, a bottle of soda, and some chips.
The view of the lake is nice, with a few ducks swimming across its surface.
Maybe the peaceful atmosphere will improve Emmy’s mood.
I set everything out on the blanket and go back to my truck to retrieve a couple of pillows so we’ll be more comfortable while we eat.
Emmy’s finally put her phone away and is standing beside the truck, arms crossed as she looks around.
The frown on her face doesn’t exactly fill me with hope that she’s going to enjoy this picnic.
"Here we are," I say, holding up the pillows.
"We can sit down and have something to eat."
Her eyes narrow as she takes in the simple meal I prepared.
"You brought sandwiches?"
"Yeah. What did you think I was making?"
I ask, confused by her reaction.
"You know Mark used to prepare these gourmet picnics for me. He’d pack wine and cheese, and even bring along candles sometimes."
I sigh heavily and set the pillows down on the blanket.
I’m not sure why Emmy feels like she needs to constantly compare me to her ex. "You want a sandwich?" she asks, wrinkling her nose as she inspects my offerings.
"Yeah, that’d be great," I reply dryly, already knowing what’s coming next.
"Which one do you want?"
"I’ll take the turkey," Emmy says dramatically, sighing as though it’s really putting her out to have to eat my cooking.
"At least Mark knew the difference between store-brand and premium meat."