Thanks to an online conversation with a friend, I just realized I'd never explained why I say, "_____ years and no one's dead yet!" on my anniversary posts.
Except I just checked, and it turns out I did give a bit of an explanation. Not the entire story, as it happens. Here's what I said:
As for the “and no one’s dead yet” reference? That’s because of the, ah, quick way in which I left Canada without telling very many people what I was doing or even that I was leaving the country and the fact that no one, including myself had even met him yet. And all the suspicions and jokes – after the fact, of course – that he was nothing more than an axe murderer.
That's from Six Years and No One's Dead Yet.
You can also check out Ten Years and No One's Dead Yet and How We Met: The Good Parts Version. Just to amuse yourselves. 🙂
The expanded explanation is a bit sad and funny and pathetic and deserves a LOT of eye rolling. Which I do. The eye rolling thing. I think my eyes have mostly managed to stay in my head during all those eye rolls, and that is a miracle itself. 😀
The expanded version includes a few "well-meaning" "kind" people who "only have my best interests in mind" and shall remain unnamed. These people who must not be named emailed me to tell me, after they learned that I married Fahim, a Muslim, that I should run away very very very fast because he was going to murder me. Get divorced! Escape! Run and hide! Because that's what all Muslims want, to kill all the infidels in the world and don't let anyone tell you any different. Uh huh.
Except that, if that's really what all Muslims want, then they're pathetically bad at it. Stupendously bad even.
I've even had people say to me, after learning that I married a Muslim, "Oh. I'm so sorry." *rolls eyes* Yeah, because that's the appropriate thing to say. *roll more eyes* (Did I get snake eyes?)
Anyway. This from people who I didn't have a close relationship with and who had never met Fahim or talked to him or exchanged emails with him or interacted with him in any way. *insert much eye rolling*
Yeah. So. It started out with jokes between Fahim and I that involved axes or sharp knives, maybe both and probably other sharp implements and a very cold freezer. And, for all we knew, it was me who was the axe murderer. I mean, it's possible. Just barely. 😛 😛