Transitioning

T's firm closed its doors yesterday. It's so odd to see that in print. Done. Finished. Fini.

I drove him to the airport before dawn this morning for three days of meetings in New York and Washington. Something amazing is out there for us next, that we know. But what we don't know is what that Next Big Thing will be, or even where it will be. We try our best to have the right attitude: we know our strengths, our hearts are absolutely open, and we're up for an adventure. We also have each other, which is the most important thing of all.

I was thinking on the drive back from the airport this morning about the 2006 holidays. I was still living in Albuquerque, but Trevor's campaign was over and he was trying to figure out what to do next. We were on the phone one night - by that time I was already home in North Carolina shivering on my parents' porch, and he was packing up his apartment in ABQ - and we talked through the pros and cons of an offer he had to work for a new fund in Dallas. He'd already lived in Dallas for five years and had great friends here, and right away we saw the advantage of easy travel between Albuquerque and Dallas. A quick Southwest flight, with a time difference that meant I could delay my return flight every weekend until Monday morning and go straight into work. By the first week of January, he was sleeping in an empty Dallas apartment on a borrowed mattress on the floor. And I was back in Albuquerque trying to figure out my next step. And so it began: a new phase.

In between those two moments, he flew to NC to spend New Year's Eve with me. My family was as welcoming and loud and comfortable as always, and having him at that table in that kitchen was really the first time I understood that we were about to give this thing our best effort, despite not having a plan and despite the fact that neither of us had wanted a relationship when we met, much less a long-distance one. We would give it our best shot, because the way we were together demanded it. And so we did.

Three years later, here we are. An absolute team. And we are entirely unsure of our next steps, once again. But somehow, this uncertainty feels like home to me. I know how to move around when the air feels tenuous. I know how to latch on to small moments and appreciate them for what they are. I know it's better to be excited for the next step than to be afraid, and so I am.

Trevor is celebrating Christmas in Connecticut this weekend without me, because it was just too expensive to fly me up for family festivities. There's a difference between not being scared about the next chapter and being foolishly unprepared for it, after all. And so our belts are tightened accordingly, which means it's me and the kittenz this weekend. But I hate not to be a part of their fun or be at their table. His family is as fantastic as mine, and I never take that for granted.

It's Wednesday at noon right now, and I'm taking a deep breath and looking out over the expanse of this week. What's out there? What will we discover? How much longer until we have some direction?

Smile back at us, world. We've been smiling at you for so long now.