Later, Jay visits Whitney's apartment for the big talk. He throws her walk-out in her face. Whitney says they need to work on their relationship and that she doesn't want to give it up. He wants to talk some things out, specifically pointing out that she makes him feel like he's constantly doing something wrong. He doesn't want to go on tour and have to be accountable for his actions. God forbid! Whitney tells him he is unnecessarily angry and defensive. He says he felt attacked by her telling him her feelings. Yeah, what a bitch! She calmly contends that she knows there are differences between them, but she is committed to working them out. He basically says that the differences she wants to iron out are all in her head. As if staying out until five in the morning when you live with someone (regardless of whether it's temporary) isn't disrespectful. Has he no perspective at all? I guess a relationship (and a head up one's ass) will do that to you.
Whitney says she doesn't think Jay listens to her, which he dismisses as ridiculous. He flips on his stance from, like, 30 seconds ago, asking how much more talking they can do. He says it will be hard on him to be away from her, too, and she rightly points out that he has never once said anything like that to her. Pinned against the ropes emotionally, he goes back to square one: You walked on me at the restaurant! That one time! She tries to make sense of how all the words he is saying hang together and make cohesive flows of thought, but it's a losing battle. He tells her she needs to be stronger. Which, fair enough and arbitrarily accurate, but totally employed in a dick way. As if him being untrustworthy and emotionally retarded stems from some weakness on her part.
Whitney takes a cue from her speech earlier that afternoon and says that, just like a beautiful, luxurious handbag, she shouldn't be seen as a burden. And that, my friends, sums up Jay and all his friends' relationships. Their girlfriends are their keystone accessories -- pulled out at pivotal moments, then stashed away until they're appropriate and/or convenient. She gently touches down the start of an ultimatum, then fades off. He sees where this is going and falls back on his "I need to focus on my music" excuse. Since when does focusing on one's career mean shelving the rest of one's life? Tamponarama is not exactly U2, y'all. Not even Jessica Simpson at the Strawberry Festival. It's two months! Jesus... Whitney reads between the lines and calls him out for not caring enough about her to try to work it out. Jay contradicts himself a few more times before they both start crying and realize this is a no-win situation.