Dating a musician support group
I thought it was a storybook romance for nine months — until Chris abruptly said, "I can't do this anymore." He refused to explain why; I was distraught and confused.A few weeks later, over the holidays, we met to talk. Of course, I could have asked more questions, but I convinced myself that Chris had gotten cold feet because we had become serious so quickly.He was 22, a senior and a talented musician who could sing and play brass, keyboards and woodwinds.I'd never had a boyfriend before, and I felt incredibly flattered when this popular, good-looking guy asked me out.But in the world we lived in, people often claimed a guy was gay if he wasn't a jock or really macho, so I didn't want to judge someone because of who his friends were and what he did. Besides, he'd taken a girl — me — out on a date, so how could he be gay?We immediately started seeing each other exclusively.This pronouncement made me feel more secure, but I shouldn't have ignored my nagging intuition that something was seriously wrong.After all, what man wouldn't jump into bed with his fiancé.
I didn't believe in premarital sex, but once we were engaged I went on the Pill and told Chris I thought we should make love.
When Chris spoke to a health official who called to check on me (my case had been reported to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention in Atlanta), he realized our baby was at risk for premature birth and newborn pneumonia, and he became hysterical, as though he were having a nervous breakdown.
That evening, after we'd watched our three children play on the lawn of our home in the Washington, D. I was 30 years old when this happened, and Chris and I had been married for 11 years.
He refused, explaining that he respected me too much and that sex had ruined his previous relationships.
Frustrated, I kept reminding myself that, as he said, "We will have the rest of our life together." In premarital counseling, we told the minister that divorce didn't fit with our values.