I can totally see it. I can totally see Sam Worthington being That Guy. The one who gets all publicly anguished over love, almost as if feeling the heartache out in the open is a validation of the heartbreak itself. It’s gross. And it’s another reason, on top of the fact that he’s so wee and I still haven’t seen Avatar and don’t intend to, that I am not down with his quiver, if it actually exists.

Him? Really?

Sam has been dating a “stylist” called Natalie Marks for almost three years. Apparently it’s over. Apparently he’s, like, really sad about it. And at the GDay LA charity event the other day, he punched a wall and cussed when asked by wranglers to wait in the holding area before walking the press line. Then he bypassed the carpet entirely and snuck in the side door, where he continued his stream of profanity at the table, getting up out of his seat repeatedly. Because he’s not an actor who gets paid to pretend he’s in one state of mind when he’s actually in another… ?

I’ve had boyfriends like that. One in particular, on my long list of vile exes, moaned and raged into my university residence intercom one night when he couldn’t reach me on the phone. I was going to school two hours away. This Sam Worthington story gives me the same vibes. It’s terribly unattractive and really lame sh-ts. Like, pull it together dude. And while we’re at it, can we permanently outlaw the Wall Punch? In movies and in life? When did this become the universal move for man anguish?

Photos from Wenn.com