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" I should just quit my day job and become an EMS worker. I&amp;#039;ve been to the hospital more times recently than Britney Spears.  It was all I could do to not commit myself on Thursday. The sight of all that blood coming from Blythe&amp;#039;s hand made me dizzy and nauseous. But I tried to keep my cool. Had to. When your girlfriend&amp;#039;s chopped off the top of her index finger, you need to be her rock. And anyway, we weren&amp;#039;t alone. Tex came along with us, and I didn&amp;#039;t want him to see me pee my pants.  Blythe was rushed into the ER, and once again I was left standing in the waiting room, feeling helpless. At one point, a nurse came out and asked us if we&amp;#039;d recovered the other part of her finger. Tex reached into his pocket and handed her something bloody wrapped in napkins. I felt like I might vomit.  Blythe is fine now, thank God. The injury happened to her left hand, not her cutting hand, And she is already talking about going back to the restaurant next week. Then again, she&amp;#039;s so spaced out on painkillers I don&amp;#039;t think she even knows what day it is.  I&amp;#039;ve been spending nights at her place, cooking her food and watching all those Netflix movies we never got around to watching. Good times. I hate to say that it took the removal of part of her finger to bring us closer, but we&amp;#039;ve been having some really deep conversations. She&amp;#039;s not mad at me anymore. In fact, she keeps calling me a stud \u2014 a far cry from being tagged a spineless wuss just a few days ago.  In one unguarded, drug-fueled confession, she admitted that her anger over her dad and Brittany had more to do with her own issues with her dad than it did with Brittany herself.  &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m jealous because she&amp;#039;s around my age, and he gives her all the attention I&amp;#039;ve always wanted,&amp;quot; she slurred as we sat on her bed watching 3:10 to Yuma. &amp;quot;Do you know my father has never invited me out on his boat? Not once. We have such a formal relationship. He talks to me like I&amp;#039;m one of his clients. Like, when he leaves phone messages for me, he&amp;#039;s all, &amp;#039;Please call me at your earliest convenience. Hope this message finds you well, blah, blah, blah.&amp;#039; All I want is for him to ask me, &amp;#039;Hey, what are you doing today? Wanna hit a few holes with me?&amp;#039; Or to tell me he&amp;#039;s proud of me and loves me.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;I know all about having a dad who&amp;#039;s not there for you. I also know about having a dad who sleeps with much younger women.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;I feel like we know so little about each other, Zach,&amp;quot; she said. &amp;quot;Tell me more.&amp;quot; She turned off the TV and, reluctantly, I launched into what I thought would be a CliffsNotes autobiography. Normally, I don&amp;#039;t do this sort of thing, but she was so interested and kept grilling me with questions, so I ended up giving the long version. I told her all about how my parents split up and how my dad dated my girlfriend. I told her about how I met Brittany at a Sexaholics Anonymous meeting with Dad, where he decided to out her and reveal that he&amp;#039;d had a secret family all these years.  She asked more about Brit, so I told her about Charlie, the father of her son, and how he died in an accident. I told her about the creep, George, she was married to \u2014 how I suspected he cheated on her with Donatela and how he once Tasered me from point-blank range.  &amp;quot;Jeez, the more you tell me about Brittany, the worse I feel for her,&amp;quot; she said.  &amp;quot;She&amp;#039;s pretty strong for all the crap she&amp;#039;s been through,&amp;quot; I said. &amp;quot;I mean, my God, when I first met her she was stripping for money and dealing drugs.&amp;quot;  As soon as I said that, I knew I&amp;#039;d made a terrible mistake. Blythe didn&amp;#039;t react in a negative way or even show any emotion one way or another, but I felt I&amp;#039;d brought something out of the closet that should have remained tucked away in a drawer somewhere.  This is why I hate talking about myself. I always say things I shouldn&amp;#039;t say. I&amp;#039;m never gonna do it again. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.redbookmag.com/love-sex/mens-perspective/a2675/diary-he-030108/>