Handicapped Love

Hi, nice you drop by what handicapped love is about and my experience. My name is Evelien, 35 years old and I live in Belgium and due to Spina Bifida I go through life in a power wheelchair.

I live in a nursery home compound where I have my own home separate from the main building, with a little garden. Back in 2007 I was in a bad physical condition. Back then I couldn't do much. I was in so much pain I could only sit in my wheelchair for a couple of hours. That spare time I loved to go to the animal shelter nearby, having a good time cuddling and playing with the dogs.

At our nursery home we often have convicts who are sentenced to do public service at our home. They don't do actual nursery jobs, but help out the staff, serve food, gardening, or help us, the patients, with some day to day problems. Usually I like them, they are friendly, honest and bring some of the outside world in. To them our world is often equally beyond their imagination as their lives to us. Usually they just want to sit out their sentences and have a good time while doing so.

In 2007 there was Hadi. He was my age but looked very young and petit. He just basically didn't do much around, but I liked him for his good mood and kindness. We could get along very well and although he didn't do much as what he was told to do, he was very occuring about the things he thought had to be done. More than once he took me out because he thought I spent too much time in bed. Back then it was a warm summer and I appreciated it very much. Despite not being allowed to, he would operate the bed hoist to get me in my wheelchair, or sometimes arranged a bed wheelchair in which I could stay longer. Getting me into the straps of the hoist is not only heavy but also quite physical and besides nurses not many would take that step just to make me have a good time. But Hadi did and he was overall just very kind.

That summer, every day I hoped Hadi would come by. And although we were completely different I started getting attracted to him. I realised this was a dead end, and in no way did i expect, nor did he ever give me the feeling this could be mutual.

Socialising with Hadi was easy. If I didn't want to say anything he could talk for hours, but if I did he could also be a good listener. On top of that he was very honest and down to earth, feeling no hesitation telling everything about himself, his friends and family. In this sincerity I told him about my feelings for him. He totally lost it. We talked before about relations, partners, love and what to expect in the future. At that time I was in a lot of pain, not able to participate in life a lot, not even the life of the nursery home. Living was hard and I felt depressed. Longing for physical contact in an emotional way grew despite the pain. That was the first time Hadi was speechless. He saw my struggle and was genuinely surprised that these feelings were part of my life.

At first he was sad. Was mad about himself that he caused feelings that were never to be mutual or in any way he would be able to react upon. I told him I would never expect him to, and that this feeling was a nice feeling, despite knowing that in a few weeks he would be gone and I probably would never see him again. Sure I would be sad but most of all happy for the feelings I had, and happy to have known him. He compared his feelings of an unanswered love he once had with my feelings, and the pain he felt then was not what he wanted for me. His intentions for his kind behaviour were just to make me feel good, not sad. Of course I knew that, and regretted my revelation. I was even afraid he would avoid me now.

But luckily he didn't. The next day he came by again, cheerful as always. I talked again about the situation the previous day. Tried to explain that I live in a very sheltered world within the home and not much happens. Meeting someone out of my bubble is rare, and his joy and kindness brought light into my world which I would cherish long after he was gone. I was in love and from the way I looked at him he knew.

No one could tell me what day he had to work. So from that day on every day I got out of bed ready to see him. When he was there I often looked at him for hours, and although I am ashamed of the stalking now, Hadi was always friendly and cheerful when he saw me.

After a few weeks his duty was done and he came over to say goodbye. We hugged and I cried, knowing I would miss him badly. My hopes for a less painful life were set for the ongoing surgery. We could go to a music festival, once it was done was the last thing Hadi said. And although I know it were only nice words, easing up the situation, when I am at a concert I search among the Moroccan groups for Hadi. My heart jumps every time i think i see him. Unfortunately I never did. Hadi was my first love, and I judge people by their character compared to his. I probably only saw his best side, but it was exceptional.