My first date with my now-husband was an interview for a serial killer.

To begin with: the killer I'm going to name in this post is now deceased, and I learned who he was after the fact. I have no idea why I didn't post this here years ago, but I'm glad I did now because I finally got some information. <br><br>In the summer of 2009 I was living in the Middle East for work, and I met a guy in a bar one night. He was an expat from the same country I'm from, and we hit it off fast. We went out a few times and I never felt anything off. <br><br>The night before I was leaving to go back home, we went to a bar that was located outside of the city. We had a few drinks, talked about our dreams, laughed, and I was smitten. I remember him asking me a few odd questions about what I'd do if a person was hurt in front of me, but I just chalked it up to him being drunk and a weird sense of humor. <br><br>As we were finishing up our drinks and getting read to go, a group of locals walked it. They were being very loud and obnoxious, shouting at us to go back to our country and calling us sluts and whores. They were scaring the other patrons and the bartender was terrified. The two of us tried to ignore them and finish our drinks, but one guy in the group was getting stranger and stranger. <br><br>Long story short, a fight breaks out. My date is thrown to the ground, where he begins screaming, kicking, and convulsing. It was like he was having a seizure, but he wasn't. I'm really scared, I try to calm him down, the locals get scared and leave. Once he starts to calm down, I help him up and he starts walking to the door. I follow him, thinking he's going to grab a taxi, but instead he jumps in front of me and blocks my path to the door. He starts screaming at me, "What would you do if I was hurt? What would you do if I was bleeding?" I'm terrified, I don't want to fight, I just want to get out of there. So I tell him, "I'd call for an ambulance, I'd do my best to keep you safe!" He stares at me without saying anything for a few seconds, and then turns around and runs out of the bar. <br><br>I'm stunned. I don't know what to do. I finally call a taxi and head back to my apartment. The next morning I get a call from him. He was back to his normal self, saying he had a bad day and he was sorry. I tell him it's okay and we can be friends, but I'm not interested in dating again. <br><br>Fast forward a few years: we live in the same city, we date other people, and sometimes we hang out. I finally start dating him again and we fall in love. We get married in 2014. We're still happily married. <br><br>A few years ago I started wondering what happened that night. I had chalked it up to him being bipolar or something else, but I never forgot it. I finally told him what I remembered and he denied it ever happened. I dropped it and chalked it up to a crazy night that I misremembered. <br><br>A couple weeks ago I started having nightmares. I couldn't figure out why, but I was terrified all the time and having very realistic nightmares. I finally told my husband what was going on, and he suggested hypnosis to see if I could figure out why I was feeling this way. <br><br>It finally came out: that night in the bar my first instinct wasn't to call for an ambulance. An ex-boyfriend of mine was stabbed by muggers a few years before that and the image of him bleeding sticks with me. My first instinct was to run and leave my date behind. But something in my head caught that and told me to do the opposite, to pretend I was going to help him. <br><br>I've been reading about serial killers since the nightmares started, and something finally clicked. I was reading about a serial killer who was active in the city around the time of my incident, who was known to use "seizures" as a way to get sympathy from his victims. I finally looked up the name and it was like a punch to the stomach. I knew the guy. <br><br>I'd known him for several months leading up to that night. He'd go to the same bars I did, we'd have somewhat friendly conversations, and he told me about his love of medicine and how he was studying to be a doctor. <br><br>I never would have made the connection had my husband not told me the truth about what happened that night years ago. When he first began dating me, he'd pretend to have a seizure just to see how people reacted. He knew it wasn't a normal thing to do, and he stopped doing it once he started dating me again. <br><br>If you've read this far and are wondering who the killer is, it's a man who went by the name of Abdelmoty Abdelmoty. He's not well known, as he was arrested and killed himself before he could be charged for multiple murders. He killed several people, including stabbing a few. <br><br>The worst part of this whole thing is that I've learned to never trust my instincts. If I had run from him that night, I would have been spared years of nightmares and the knowledge of what could have happened to me.