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" Charlton Ross&amp;#039;s words stuck with me for days. I don&amp;#039;t know why I didn&amp;#039;t just deck him right there. But it all happened so quickly, and I was so blindsided by his rudeness, that by the time I figured out what was going on, we were already leaving the restaurant.  I was furious, and I told Blythe I never wanted to see his shiny bald head ever again.  She agreed to it, but seemed disappointed. I didn&amp;#039;t like that she didn&amp;#039;t take my side. But I let it go until this morning, when I awoke in a foul mood. There was something maddening about Blythe sitting there beside me, flipping through Architectural Digest.   &amp;quot;I don&amp;#039;t understand why you just don&amp;#039;t trust me with this design,&amp;quot; I said. &amp;quot;I know what I&amp;#039;m doing. I ran a popular lounge in New York City.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;I do trust you,&amp;quot; she said. &amp;quot;I just want to explore all possibilities.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Why even bother \u2014 when I come up with a winner plan?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Because that&amp;#039;s just the way I am. It&amp;#039;s the lawyer in me. I need to see things from lots of different angles.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;No, it&amp;#039;s the coward in you. That&amp;#039;s the reason you&amp;#039;re never spontaneous \u2014 because you need to figure everything out. You say you want to be free and wild like me. Well then, listen to me from time to time and put the frickin&amp;#039; magazine away.&amp;quot;  I grabbed it from her hand and threw it across the room, a lot harder than I meant, but it was too late to backtrack. Anyway it felt sort of good to throw a hissy fit. I was angry and hurt, and she was going to listen to me.  She got up to fetch the magazine and put it by the bed gently. &amp;quot;I don&amp;#039;t want to talk to you when you&amp;#039;re in this state.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;State? What state? I&amp;#039;m in California. Where are you \u2014 Never-Never Land?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;You should go now.&amp;quot;  She tried to walk past me, but I stood in her path. For the first time, I noticed tears in her eyes. She stood there like a little girl, with her hands on her hips, biting her bottom lip. &amp;quot;What? What do you want from me?&amp;quot; she said.  &amp;quot;I just want your respect.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;I do respect you.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Then why won&amp;#039;t you listen to my ideas about the restaurant? Why do I feel like you&amp;#039;re so open to every other person&amp;#039;s input except mine?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;That&amp;#039;s not true.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;You haven&amp;#039;t agreed to a damn thing I&amp;#039;ve wanted except for the actual location \u2014 and I feel like even that you don&amp;#039;t really trust me about. I thought the whole reason you liked me is because I&amp;#039;m daring and adventurous, but when I ask you to be the same way, you resist me.&amp;quot;  She sat on the bed and looked at her feet, then spoke slowly. &amp;quot;I want to be daring, I really do. It&amp;#039;s just that there&amp;#039;s a lot of money at stake here, Zach. My nest egg and the investments of a few of my close friends. No offense, but you have less to lose here than me. It&amp;#039;s easy to be cavalier and think by the seat of your pants when you don&amp;#039;t have any responsibility.&amp;quot;  She said more, but I was already out the door, into my car, and on my way up to Sis&amp;#039;s house, where I write this diary now. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.redbookmag.com/love-sex/mens-perspective/a2387/diary-he-120107/>