Why does building for strangers I'll never meet feel so heavy?

You and your team build for an audience that has no face. No one will write to thank you. Some of them haven't been born yet. That absence feels like a hole where meaning should be, so you call it stress, or burnout, or just "the job." But look at it plainly: you did not sign up to build small things for people in the room. You signed up to build things that outlast the room. That was always the deal. The heaviness you feel is not a sign something has gone wrong. It is the weight of the thing itself. What has gone wrong is smaller and fixable: you have not said this out loud to the people beside you. Your team is carrying the same invisible weight alone, each of you assuming it's just personal fatigue. Name it together, and it becomes what it actually is — the shape of serious work, shared.