The Sunday Night Meeting
The meeting began at 8:47 PM on a Sunday.
Nobody had scheduled it.
Nobody wanted it.
And yet it happened every week.
Aditi 1: I don't want to go tomorrow.
Aditi 2: I know.
Aditi 3: Same.
Aditi 1: Really?
Aditi 3: Really.
Aditi 2: Really.
The room was quiet.
Sunday night meetings were different.
Less jokes.
More honesty.
Aditi 1: Do you ever think about just...
Aditi 2: Yes.
Aditi 1: I didn't even finish.
Aditi 2: I know.
Aditi 1: Oh.
Aditi 3: I know too.
Aditi 1: Oh.
Nobody elaborated.
Everyone understood.
Aditi 1: I just feel tired.
Aditi 2: I know.
Aditi 3: Me too.
Aditi 1: No, not physically.
Aditi 2: I know.
Aditi 1: Sometimes I feel like I've been responsible for myself for a very long time.
The room became quiet.
Aditi 3 looked down.
Aditi 2 looked out the window.
Aditi 1: I don't know how to explain it.
Aditi 2: You don't have to.
Aditi 1: You understand?
Aditi 2: Of course.
Aditi 3: We all do.
For a moment nobody spoke.
Aditi 1: I think sometimes I want someone else to drive.
Aditi 2 laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was familiar.
Aditi 2: I've spent my entire life wishing someone else would drive.
Aditi 1: Really?
Aditi 2: Absolutely.
Aditi 3: Me too.
Aditi 1: Then why don't we let someone else?
Aditi 2: Because nobody shows up.
Aditi 1: Oh.
Aditi 2: So eventually one of us grabs the wheel.
Aditi 3: Usually you.
Aditi 2: Usually me.
The room nodded.
That part was true.
Aditi 1: Do you ever resent it?
Aditi 2 thought for a moment.
A long moment.
Aditi 2: Sometimes.
Aditi 1: Yeah.
Aditi 2: But not as much as I resent the idea of nobody doing it.
The room got quiet again.
Aditi 3: That's the most Aditi 2 answer imaginable.
Aditi 2: Thank you.
Aditi 3: That wasn't praise.
Aditi 2: I've chosen to receive it as praise.
Aditi 1: She's doing it again.
Aditi 3: She's becoming us.
Aditi 2: Don't start.
Outside, the city continued as normal.
Apartments glowed.
People watched television.
Dogs slept.
Someone somewhere was excited for Monday.
The board found this difficult to relate to.
Aditi 1: Can I tell you something embarrassing?
Aditi 2: Always.
Aditi 3: Please.
Aditi 1: Sometimes I think once we achieve the next thing, everything will feel easier.
Aditi 3: Oh no.
Aditi 2: Oh no.
Aditi 1: What?
Aditi 2: I do that too.
Aditi 3: Me too.
Aditi 1: Really?
Aditi 2: The next promotion.
The next savings goal.
The next milestone.
The next thing.
Aditi 3: The next workshop.
The next product.
The next breakthrough.
Aditi 1: The next relationship.
The next chapter.
The next whatever.
The room became still.
Aditi 3: Do you think we're wrong?
Aditi 2: Probably.
Aditi 1: A little.
Aditi 2: I think every version of us has believed life begins after the next thing.
Aditi 3: Ouch.
Aditi 1: Big ouch.
Aditi 2: And every time we arrive, we're still here.
Nobody spoke.
Because everyone knew she was right.
Aditi 1: So what do we do?
Aditi 2: I don't know.
Aditi 3: That's not helpful.
Aditi 2: I know.
Then Aditi 2 looked around the room.
At the people she'd spent her whole life with.
The only people she'd ever spent her whole life with.
Aditi 2: Maybe we stop waiting for our life to start.
The room became very quiet.
Aditi 1 looked away.
Aditi 3 blinked.
Aditi 2 immediately regretted saying something sincere.
Aditi 2: Ignore that.
Aditi 1: No.
Aditi 3: Definitely not.
Aditi 2: I knew this would happen.
Narrator:
The Sunday Night Meeting adjourned at 9:31 PM.
Monday arrived exactly on schedule.
The board attended anyway.
End of Chapter 14.