Rock star dating
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After weeks of him sitting outside my new home, blaring his car horn and relentlessly calling me to spend time together, I packed up again and moved back in.Less than three months later, he threw something at my face, and a few weeks after that, he slept with a girl on our couch. I ignored my friends' warnings and spent six months living out of a suitcase in what had now become his apartment -- no longer ours.
My rock star boyfriend-turned-attacker got nothing but a lousy temporary order of protection, followed by a year of probation, and then his record swiped clean.
Maybe once we put up our wall decor in our new home, things would get better. I honestly cannot even remember what he was so mad about, but as I sat there on the couch, he held a towel over my face, trying to "make [me] shut up." When I kicked him off of me, he shoved his fist in front of my face as a warning for "next time." A few hours later, he put me in a chokehold. After him "fainting" and "not remembering who I am," he screamed at me to get out of his home. All I could feel was the pain of my jawbone, cheekbone, and ear pounding. At this point, I hadn't slept in 30 hours, one half of my face was deep red, and I was crying hysterical in pain. He was immediately arrested and I whaled as they slapped the handcuffs on him. At the precinct, he further insisted on his lack of memory.
When I tried to call the police, he began twisting my arm to make me drop my phone. Eventually I stood up, at which point he tried apologizing and consoling me, but I screamed, demanding he get away from me. I flailed and pushed as he tried to hold me back, and without shoes, a bra, keys, or my wallet, I ran outside. As if by a miracle, I spotted two police officers standing outside on the street. Funny, though, how he only remembered that his brother was a police detective so these cops should treat him with respect.
Little did I know, I would be moving all of my furniture in by myself while he slept off a high for days on end.
We began fighting immediately, and my friends kept urging me to leave.
I don't want to go in there.""Oh, stop it," she urged me. He seemed like he would make a really great boyfriend.
I didn't know why I was so nervous to meet this guy, but I assumed it had to do with the fact that he was in one of my favorite bands."Just have dinner with him. "My friend was right; I had just graduated college, was living back at home with my mother, and had no serious commitments... Young, dumb, and awe-struck, I ignored my gut instinct and went with my heart. Immediately, my friends disliked him, and slowly but surely I began seeing what they pointed out.
It was less than ideal, but people's perceptions of him being the rock-star-yet-family-man boyfriend kept me believing.
I endured countless fights and anti-Semitic insults.
As it turns out, he may have been well dressed and well traveled, but he was giving to enable guilt trips, and caring to watch his back. Not knowing any better, I turned to my new beau for stability and support through life’s hardships and drama.
He had a story for everything, and a vehement voice that could convince anyone of anything. He was hardly ever there when I needed him to be -- always out drinking with friends who inflated his rock star ego, or playing music with young girls -- but the few moments of what-seemed-like dedication were enough to keep me attached.
Following in her sisters footsteps, Bella also has a thing for smooth crooners.