Isolation

I'm in a little tea cafe on some street in Frankfurt where I ended up after a long walk, driven by a combination of loneliness, restlessness and general disorientation. Somehow I would rather be out among strangers than alone in my utterly impersonal apartment on a too-quiet street.

The same archetypal characters keep strolling down the sidewalk past me. There goes another pair of young hipsters, another businessman on a bicycle, another dapper middle-aged couple with ice cream cones that they seem to be trying hard not to enjoy too much. There's a workman in paint-splattered blue overalls, looking pleased about going home for the day. It seems like everyone here fits into the scene as if cast there, and I'm simply the invisible audience.

I know this is only temporary -- I'll either make some friends and start to fit in, or simply endure, but either way it will end in a few months. A foursome of friends just walked into the cafe, loud and laughing, and I feel grateful for their presence. It reminds me that there is such a thing as being a local, comfortable with the language and surroundings. It reminds me that someday, I'll be one of them again (and probably start feeling the urge to sneak away for some solitude, or embark on another adventure, funnily enough).