A young man sits at the table of a Venetian Café. Atop his head sits a black fedora, and he is robed in the colours of autumn and the casual attire of his desire – brown longsleeved shirt, top two or three buttons undone, grey slacks, brown leather shoes. A light fall leather jacket hangs from the chair opposite, and it is a fine day. He cups a mug of tea in his hands to warm them from the mild breeze.
This is where and how Julian would like to be, this instant, had he the inclination. He does not consider how mercilessly bored and lonely he would be, sitting at that café. He only notes the colour of the light on the pure, white metal table. The smells of the café behind him, the sounds of the street vendors and the look of the tourists that pass him by. He believes that this place, this view, would be peaceful. That the sheer joy of being in such a perfectly pleasant and beautiful atmosphere would make all his cares and troubles float away on the breeze. That the autumn light would bring about a transformation in reality to the idyllic world where there is no work but pleasant work. No life but fulfilling. No happiness but complete.
And yet the seat across from him is empty.
It is not because he desires it empty. Oh, no. He has never desired such. What gives him greatest pleasure, what strokes his vanity and pride is when others take note of him, grow curious and come to him of their own accord. When they sit across from him and ask him questions and listen to his responses.
But that is not how life works, and he knows that.
People don’t just walk up to you and inquire.
People fear rejection. He fears rejection. He fears walking up to someone and asking of the weather or commenting upon the items upon their person and being immediately judged and discarded. Of being denied his existence in that other’s reality out of hand.
And so he sits there, rooted to the spot, desiring nothing but to engage with one of the many people passing him by.
Thing is, sometimes, people just want what he wants, and he knows that too. Sometimes people just want to be noticed and walked up to and talked to. These people are standing or sitting, alone and apart, and want to be invited into conversation. It takes a tremendous amount of energy and personal fortitude for someone like him to make an attempt at engaging one of these people – for sometimes they truly do wish to be left alone.
The chance of denial is suffocating. It boxes him into a corner and he can see no way out. Expending ever more energy in order to attempt an expression of welcome and interest just to be rebuffed by dead eyes and a tight insincere smile.
So he imagines the day, its beauty, and the warm tea in his hands, and he doesn’t think about the loneliness, but rather, the pretty picture he makes, sitting there, and he hopes that pretty picture draws someone in. That situation and circumstance will comingle with coincidence to bring someone along who knows, like him, what a person apart truly wants, and is willing to expend the energy on the half-chance, the hope, that they are willing and ready to greet you and converse and share of their moment, their pretty picture.
And then he remembers that he is in his office at work and it’s all in his head anyways. So why not bring that other there to sit with him?
Because the waiting and enjoyment of a setting can sometimes take so long and be so pleasant that it can, in fact, become an end in itself. The comfort of a beautiful locale can worm in beyond any subtle play of social emotions and come to be the entire meaning of a moment. Infused in one’s being to such a degree that you become part of the setting, as the background character in a motion picture or a play. You act out your part because the symmetry of your role fits so well that you do not mind being the backdrop to greater or, surely, more interesting events elsewhere. In that moment you have achieved that look of perfection of the spirit of a situation that all of the travel advertisements advocate is possible for you to experience.
It is a fleeting moment. It lasts perhaps as long as does his tea. But in Julian’s mind, the tea need never run out. The sun need never set, the café, never close. The tourists and locals can continue their pace forever, and the scene can truly be enjoyed over and over for eternity.
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