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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
It’s been a few months since Emmy and I started going out.
At first, she was really sweet and caring.
But over time, I’ve noticed that she’s become more and more critical of me.
She’s always finding fault in me, and comparing me to her ex. I try to be patient and understanding, but it’s getting really frustrating.
I feel like I can’t do anything right in her eyes.
I started to wonder if she’s the right girl for me.
"Hey Jamie, how are you doing?"
Emmy asked as soon as I answered the call.
"I’m good. How about you?"
I replied.
"I’m good. I was thinking we should go out for dinner tonight. Maybe watch a movie," she said.
"Sounds like a plan. What time?"
I asked.
"How about 6 PM?"
"What’s wrong with your hair? Why did you cut it like that?"
She asked after I picked her up and we were on our way to have dinner.
I was taken aback by her question.
I thought I looked good, and my hair has grown out a bit since the last time I cut it.
"Um… I just needed a haircut, so I went and got it cut off. It was getting too long."
"I don’t know. It looks really bad. Maybe next time you should get it cut by someone else."
I gripped the steering wheel a little tighter.
This was just another one of her jabs at me.
I’ve been noticing that she’s been doing this more and more lately.
We continued to drive in silence as we hit the evening traffic.
The neon storefronts flickered past us, casting a colorful glow over the crowded streets.
Emmy scrolled through her phone, occasionally sighing dramatically.
I could tell she was annoyed with me, but I didn’t know what to say to make things better.
When we hit a red light, I noticed a vacant parking lot beside a closed convenience store.
On a whim, I signaled and turned into it, parking under a flickering street lamp.
Emmy looked up from her phone, her brow furrowed in confusion.
"What are you doing?" she asked, irritation evident in her voice.
I turned off the engine and unclicked my seatbelt, shifting in my seat to face her squarely.
The only sound was the soft hum of the radio, playing some pop song I didn’t recognize.
Emmy’s gaze drifted back to her phone, her thumbs continuing to scroll through whatever app she was on.
I cleared my throat, and she rolled her eyes dramatically before setting the phone in her lap and crossing her arms over her chest.
The scent of her perfume wafted through the car, a familiar floral smell that reminded me of happier times.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, rehearsing the words one last time in my head.
"Jamie," Natalia had said, "you’re too nice. You need to be more direct. Tell her how you feel."
I opened my eyes and turned to face Emmy fully.
My hands were sweating on the steering wheel, but I gripped it tightly and began.
"I miss the way we used to laugh together," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
The radio played on, filling the silence between us.
Emmy’s gaze remained fixed on her phone, her fingernails tapping out a staccato rhythm on the screen.
The parking lot’s security light cast harsh shadows across her face, accentuating the sharp angles of her jaw and cheekbones.
I cleared my throat again, feeling my throat growing dry.
I reached to lower the radio’s volume further, and it was only then that Emmy looked up.
"What now?" she snapped, her voice laced with irritation.
I noticed how her eyes had changed over time.
They were once warm and bright brown, but now they seemed cold and dismissive.
The words I’d rehearsed with Natalia caught in my throat as I took in her expression.
But seeing her like that hardened my resolve.