I wanted to be the passenger in my own life for one evening

Dear Delyara, No planning. No deciding. No carrying the route in my head. No checking the time, the bags, the weather, the list, the moods of everyone else in the car. Just sit down and be taken. I think that is one of my deepest unglamorous fantasies lately — not a villa in Italy, not a new body, not a dramatic escape. Just one ordinary evening where I am not the one responsible for steering. Someone else knows what’s for dinner. Someone else remembers the PE kit. Someone else notices we’re low on cat food. Someone else takes the emotional wheel. I didn’t get that evening. But I wanted it enough to write it.