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Heaven.

Wow. Will wonders never cease?

Living in Alberta, I felt free for the first time in ages. Finally, I was on my own, doing my thing. I live in a one-bedroom apartment that cost me three hundred and sixty dollars a month. Considering I was making close to two hundred bucks a day working in the oil sands five days a week, I could afford a better place but I have that Chechen sense of frugality. My people are used to being under siege, hounded and hunted simply because we're different from the Russian oligarchy that oppresses us. We don't like to waste food or other resources because we have very recent memories of times when they were scarce.

With Dahir by my side, I felt like anything was possible. No, better than that, I felt more alive than I'd ever felt in ages. This man was something else. Six feet tall, skinny but muscular, with medium brown skin, curly black hair and light brown eyes. Although born and raised in the Nepean sector of Ottawa, Ontario, Dahir considered himself a proud son of the Somali motherland. He's very proud of his people, and I feel the same way about my fellow Chechens. There are a lot of us in Toronto and I hung out with fellow Chechen youths back in the day. I considered myself a Chechen nationalist-at-large in some of my more spirited moments. Who would have ever guessed that I would end up falling in love with a dark-skinned Muslim brother from another country?

Love is love I guess, and besides, didn't the great Prophet Mohammed ( peace be upon him ) state that the black man and the white man along with the Arab are equal in the eyes of Allah? In the back of my mind, I knew that many, including my parents, wouldn't approve of my romance with Dahir, but I didn't care. I loved this Somali brother and if loving him was wrong, then this proud Chechen-Canadian Muslim woman didn't want to be right! Walking hand in hand with Dahir on the streets of Calgary, I got some funny looks. The most disapproving stares we got came from white guys and black women. And here's the funny part, sometimes those white guys and black women were together!

Dahir and I didn't care about the haters, we were too busy living our lives. We went to the movies together, and restaurants, and we also prayed together. Dahir considers himself secular, and for a while I had a problem with this. To me, a Muslim who considers himself secular is walking a dangerous road. I'm very, very passionate about my religion. I always defend Islam when some foolish westerner starts talking trash about my faith. That's part of the reason why I had some issues with Dahir's lifestyle.

Yeah, some of the things Dahir did got on my nerves. The guy smoked, drank, watched porn and partied like there was no tomorrow. He didn't go to mosque, and avoided outwardly religious Muslims like the plague. The few times I wore my hijab when we were out on a date, he made a big fuss about it and told me I looked better without it. One angry glare from me and he learned to stop talking such nonsense. I mean, I'm fairly liberal in my thinking. I don't think Muslim women should have fewer rights than men. However, my faith matters to me. And heaven help me I almost smacked Dahir when I saw him eating Chinese food ( including pork ) with some Caribbean friends of his at the Core Shopping Center in downtown. What the fuck? Damn. Haram much?

Dahir didn't seem to understand what the fuss was about, and that irked me. We fought often, in those heady days, but we also made up in the most fun way possible. As conservative as I am, I'm still fairly liberal when it comes to certain things. Like sex. The rules of Islam state that a woman should only share her body with her lawfully wedded husband. Well, I shared mine with Dahir. The first time, I was very hesitant, and feared getting hurt. The handsome Somali stud told me to relax, and then he took care of me.

Gently, Dahir lay me on the king-sized bed, and slowly undressed me before making love to me.

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