Art and Expectation

“I hate it.”

“What? Why? I think it’s wonderful!”

Maya Lewis’s painting, wreathed in a glossy black frame, hung above the cafe's counter, proud and unmissable. Empty darkness pierced by pinpricks of white, swirling in a spiral towards a central figure in a spacesuit. Spread-eagled, as though relaxing in a pool, they drifted among the stars, lost in the vast emptiness of space. Isaac thought it was beautifully melancholic, almost to the point that it spoke to him and his own feelings. He felt drawn in, as though if he stared long enough it could have bled into the real world and he would become the figure drifting in an expanse beyond thought and time.

Isaac shook the feelings from his mind, focusing back on the platter in front of them. Steaming cheese toasties, an arrangement of apples and yoghurt dusted with cinnamon and two milkshakes. A simple meal for a first date, he had thought, but the discount Maya had gotten made the whole thing feel that much more special. She sat opposite him, platinum blonde hair and verdant green eyes dazzling in the midday sunlight as she turned back to face Isaac, pointedly facing away from her painting.

“Why?” she asked shrilly, as though it were an easy answer. “Look at it! You can barely see most of the stars, or the pattern they’re supposed to make!”

“I saw the-”

“And that awful splodge in the corner - gosh, I can’t believe I let them use it.”

They had only been sitting in the café for an hour, and despite her dislike of the painting, Isaac felt things were going well. Earlier, he had seen her struggling with the canvas as she walked and offered to help. Maya had grudgingly accepted and had not stopped complaining about it since. Isaac thought about reaching for her hands, if only to comfort her, but a part of his brain recoiled.

She doesn’t know what you are. Who you are. She deserves someone better.

Maya took a long breath. “I’m really not coming across well, am I? I just-”

“No, no!” Isaac leaned forwards. “I-I mean, yes.”

Maya shot him a puzzled glance.

Isaac’s heart raced. Man, words could be difficult sometimes. Why couldn’t they just come out the way Isaac wanted?

“You are coming across well. I’m still here, aren’t I?” He tried.

How much longer will she be here after she learns?

“I’m that scary, am I?”

“No!” Isaac laughed, burying his own face. “No, I- “

“I’m taking the piss, Isaac!” Maya broke into her own fit of laughter.

Isaac’s heart beat a little softer. He sat back, watching her, and for that one golden moment he relaxed completely, feeling like he truly had a chance this time. Not that he had been on many dates previously – things always got complicated with him and relationships – but Maya struck Isaac as different in the best imaginable way.

They sat there for some time after in companionable silence, basking in the pleasant warmth of the September sun peering through the window blinds. Maya was radiant. It was like she controlled the sun, telling it specifically where to land to accent her; the linen top she wore, the stunningly curled eyeliner, even the small specks of stubborn paint still clinging to her hands. Isaac felt she matched her painting in a way. Both looked incredible at first glance, then as you looked longer and noticed the imperfections you simply ended up liking them more.

Isaac found himself looking again at the painting. It was hard to avoid, being right above her head from Isaac’s perspective, but he didn’t mind. ‘Drifting in Infinity’ it was called, and it fit perfectly.

“Stop me if you want,” Isaac started, glancing at Maya, who narrowed her eyes. “But I really do think it’s good. Mesmerising, even.”

Maya’s expression softened, and she gave him a half-hearted smile, then downcast her eyes.

“I don’t mean to go on,” Isaac continued. “But you need to take more credit for what you’ve done.”

Maya opened her mouth to speak. Isaac gently cut her off.

“So what if it isn’t perfect? It’s up there, isn’t it? It’s yours. No one can steal or copy what you’ve done. They’re your brushstrokes, your canvas, and yes, your mistakes. But I don’t see them that way.”

Isaac sat up, fully taking her in for a moment.

Maya Lewis, a talented young artist who could not appreciate her own work. The same sad, lonely story Isaac had heard about from pretty much every creative person he had met. Thinking like that, of all those other people locked in the same loop of creation and detest, Isaac was astonished that people didn’t speak anywhere near as much about the fact that the loneliness part was essentially irrelevant. How could you feel as though you were alone with your thoughts when millions of others experienced them each day? As for the sadness of the tale, that was just a bubble that other people could come and help you pop.

“Mistakes are human,” Isaac went on. “No one is perfect. The world would be utterly miserable if we all were. There would be no experimentation, no expectation to do anything, because you would already be perfect. There would be no need to create, or to change your style, or to seek a better job. And you wouldn’t have the motivation to do these things, because in your head, you’re already enough.”

Maya was listening intently, her toastie lying forgotten on the edge of the plate.

“There would be no stories of success, of people defying the odds – defying conformity even – if mistakes were impossible to make.”

Careful now. Isaac’s mind chimed in. She still doesn’t know.

Isaac paused, taking a breath. “Maya, all that mistake shows is that you’re human. Your love combined with your effort was blended into that canvas alongside your paints, and was so strong that it couldn’t handle it all and had to invent a reason for you not to like it. That mistake doesn’t define the image to me. If anything, it elevates it, and I want more people to admire it and see that you weren’t afraid to show off the imperfection.

“The world needs people like you, Maya. People who aren’t afraid to show off things that are imperfect. Because the way things are right now, with AI trying to replace everything, there’ll be a point where we won’t be able to tell generation from creation. And it scares me. But I look at that painting now, and I see creation. Raw, passionate talent. I see a story behind it, and I love it even more.”

Maya was silent. Isaac began to fret that he had sounded too desperate. But was it truly the worst thing to be honest?

You can’t tell her. She won’t understand.

After a moment, Maya tilted her head to the side and smiled, wide and appreciative, and for that moment Isaac felt that there was no sight in the world that could have compared. He hadn’t meant to go on so long, but the words had gushed out like a waterfall. She looked once more at the painting, and Isaac thought he heard a brief sigh of contentment come from her. He grinned in response.

“Thank you, Isaac,” Maya said, turning back around. “I…needed to hear that. I wish I could put into words how much it means.”

At that moment, the waitress came over to clear some of the plates, breaking the moment, but the words were not lost, and they both felt closer because of it.

***

Affirmations buzzed in Maya’s mind as she tried not to beam with pride in case she came across too weird. But gods above, Isaac’s words had hit her hard. She resisted the urge to look a second time behind her, and knew now that from now on, every time she came in, she would see that painting in a completely different light.

She let the silence hang for a little while, basking in the kindness that had been given to her, then realised she had been talking about herself for far too long, and really ought to give Isaac some time to talk about himself. She knew he worked in a local media store somewhere in town, and had been here all his life, but startlingly little beyond that.

“So, what do you want to do?”

Isaac seemed almost to recoil from the question, as though she had struck him. Or was he just leaning back to think? He seemed to gather himself after a moment but avoided her eyes. Was it a difficult subject for him? She thought she saw his hands tremble slightly.

“I…you know, I’m just…looking…still. Seeking opportunities…you know? Not ready to settle down yet, I guess.”

His ruse was more obvious than her painting’s mistake. She looked at him expectantly, hoping it told him she knew he wasn’t being truthful.

Maya hated lies. Oh, she knew people had to lie sometimes, about a gift they didn’t like, or to conform to something in society, but she hated lies that hid real truths, lies that felt like they were just trying to make her feel better about something. They made her feel like the other person didn’t trust her enough, that they had made their own judgement that she wouldn’t be able to handle the truth. She wanted to make her judgement with Isaac, who seemed already like a wonderful guy.

“Right,” she said, trying not to sound too unkind. “Opportunities.”

“Yeah.”

“And how long are we going to go on until you tell me the truth?”

Gods above, Maya! Not that unkind! You’ve ruined it now, you watch.

Maya cringed back, holding in a shout she desperately wished she could deliver to her brain. Isaac was unreadable as he stared at an empty part of the table. God, now she had ruined things.

“I’m sorry, Isaac. I shouldn’t have- “

“It’s okay.”

What?!

Maya sat up. This time, she let him take his time before he answered.

“You’re right. I-yeah, you’re right.” He looked as though he was about to tremble but blessedly tried to hold to her eyes as he spoke, trying to summon courage. “Honestly, I feel a bit like your spacem - astronaut - over there. Floating about aimlessly, stuck on a path I can’t see the end of. I don’t know where I should be, or where I want to be.”

Maya’s heart nearly broke for the man in front of her. Isaac Jenkins, a man with a kindness that could have ended wars, felt meaningless. The same sad, lonely story she had heard about from basically every guy she knew. Thinking like that, of all the people who felt that kindness was no virtue and accomplished nothing, Maya was constantly amazed that people didn’t speak anywhere near as much about the fact that one act of kindness could completely flip someone else’s day. How would you feel if that compliment you paid a stranger, or that bit of stationery you lent a friend, had turned a difficult day for them into a manageable one? As for the sadness, that was all just a self-deprecating bubble of the desire for recognition that someone else could come and help you pop.

“And…” Isaac continued, his hands continuing to tremble. “Well-I- “

“Take your time.”

“Thank you,” he breathed, smiling ever so slightly. Maya smiled back. “I hope this doesn’t make things…weird between us.”

Maya waited patiently. She would give him all the time he needed.

“Maya, I…” He trailed off, before glancing at the painting and appeared to become reinvigorated. “I don’t quite know where I am in terms of…stages of life. Identity, I mean.”

Maya raised both eyebrows. He…did he mean gay? She could easily get past that, and she could tell him so right there and then that it wouldn’t change a thing, they could still be friends. She still wanted to learn about him, to have memories with him. And if that didn’t mean a relationship, then that was okay. Lord knows she hadn’t woken up to struggle with that canvas this morning because she was actively looking for a guy. She just wanted him to be honest with her.

Isaac took a shaky breath. “I’m…I’m…genderfluid.”

***

Inside Isaac’s mind, he was screaming.

WHAT DID YOU DO, YOU FOOL?

WHY DID YOU SAY THAT?

SHE’LL NEVER WANT TO HANG OUT WITH YOU NOW, WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO DIFFERENT?

***

Inside Maya’s mind, she was stunned.

Genderfluid? But he looks so…

Stop making assumptions. He’s nice!

He lied to me!

He was afraid!

***

The silence that passed was deafening. Neither could have decided who it was worse for; Isaac, who had just admitted his biggest worry, or Maya, who had learnt that the guy who she found so refreshingly different really was…different.

Isaac, for a second time, was unreadable. He scrunched his face up hard, then downcast his eyes.

Go on, tell her everything, Isaac’s mind whispered, bringing him down as always. Watch her leave.

“It’s…just pronouns and minor stuff…so far.” Isaac managed. God, he was afraid. “I’m not really ready to…ugh, I don’t know. I’m…sorry if I led you on. Truly.”

Isaac returned to looking at that spot on the table, his capacity for words expended. Maya was still lost for words. Yes, he had led her on a bit. The way he dressed and acted, it had seemed like a very typical man’s way of doing things. His mannerisms, his - mostly - collected attitude…gosh, should she even be calling him ‘him’? She looked to her mind for guidance, messy though it could be, and received only one word.

Listen.

Isaac was losing his mind. He pondered making a run to avoid thinking about it. Why was he going on so much? What good would it do? She obviously…she clearly…

Isaac looked up. Maya was still there, watching him. She didn’t appear angry yet, but he supposed he could put that down to her still processing. She didn’t try to speak, merely watched him, almost expectantly.

“I should have said sooner. I’m sorry I led you on. I like you, I really do, but I get it if you don’t want to…”

“Tell me more.” Maya said.

What?

“I want to know more.” She continued. “I’ve heard the label in passing, but I’ve never grasped the meaning beyond face value.”

Now that was a turn. Maybe Isaac could explain a bit more before she left. Maybe he could let her understand for someone else, if there ever was someone else she met like him.

“Right, okay.” Isaac started. “It came on…about a year ago. I found I enjoyed defying ‘conformity’ in what I wore and enjoyed, and I’ve been steadily trying different…styles. It basically means that some days I could wake up and fee…like this,” He gestured to himself. “But other days I can wake up and feel…opposite, sometimes. Or both. Or nothing at all. It’s… a lot. And that’s not all of it, I don’t think. Some parts are still new to me.

“I like to use ‘they’ pronouns but I’m not very good at keeping up with it, so usually I just let people call me whatever. Easier for them, you know? You can too, by the way. And I know I’m probably making it a big scene, but I do like it. And it’s important to me.”

Maya, to Isaac’s enormous relief, smiled. She had listened as best she could, processing each word to help her understand. His - their - revelation at first had been a mild shock, but now, after hearing this from him - them - she found she liked Isaac even more. That they had felt safe to tell her about it only increased that feeling.

“Thank you for explaining, Isaac. I’m sure there’s more to it all, just like how you said, but I hear you. And you know what?”

She reached for Isaac’s hands, cupping them in hers. They were oddly cold, and she held tighter.

“I’m glad you told me. I’ve never met anyone like you. And just because you’ve told me that this is who you are, it doesn’t change your kindness, or the fact you helped me with my canvas earlier. So what if you’re a guy one day, and a girl another? You’re still Isaac to me. You’re still a person, and valid. And I want to get to know every part of you.”

Isaac was speechless. Overwhelmed with a feeling he - they - had not felt in months. She wasn’t going to leave!

Another silence passed, but this one was more pleasant. Isaac couldn’t have formed words if he’d been offered a million pounds. Finally, he got up, to Maya’s confusion, and walked over to ‘Drifting in Infinity.’ Isaac regarded the image for a moment, then turned to Maya.

“Do you know what that splodge is to me, Maya?”

She shook her head.

“It’s the best mistake I’ve ever made.”

She chuckled, rising to her feet to join him.

“What on earth?”

“Look,” Isaac said, pointing at the astronaut. “This feels like me. Drifting nowhere, on a path I can’t see. But there…” He raised his hand to the splodge. Suddenly, it seemed much more intentional. Like an object, or a planet. “That feels like something. And I think that this astronaut is drifting towards it.”

Maya looked over, and found that remarkably, it did seem like there was more of a direction to the person in the painting.

“Just like how I happened to find you this morning.”

Maya stopped, turning to Isaac. He grinned awkwardly.

Then, her heart exploded with affection for the person in front of her, and she grabbed Isaac hard and pressed her lips to theirs right there in the café.

THE END