When Alexis was little, I’d read her her favorite fairy tales before she’d fall asleep. The stories, which I’d narrate in my most Prince Charming of voices, would inevitably conclude “and they lived happily ever after.” As she got older, her novels of choice ended with boats beating against the current or loving Big Brother.

I appreciate the artistry of literature (I am a writer, after all), but I’ve never felt fulfilled by an ending... because I’ve never wanted a good story to end. I remember being eleven and finishing The Lord of The Rings trilogy. (Spoiler alert!) While most of the hobbits and the elves sail to the west, Sam returns home to Rose and their daughter. Won’t Sam just grow bored? I thought. Isn’t he resigning himself to a life without adventure or exploration, an eternal dénouement? And on the other hand, the rest of our heroes vanish into the mist into some unknown adventure we’ll never see. Both were equally unsatisfying to me at such an impressionable age. That may explain why I write sequels; endings never really feel like the end of the journey.

I’ve been pondering this since Alexis finished moving out. Last night I thought I’d clear my head by cooking dinner: my famous pasta carbonara. (What was I thinking; pasta carbonara was her favorite!) I opened the kitchen cabinet to pull out my onion goggles and – Alexis’ signature pink pair was gone. I panicked for a moment. Does this mean she wouldn’t be able to help me in the kitchen when she visits? Were all of our future cooking sessions, her holidays home from school, all jeopardized because I lost them? After searching far and wide, I realized that I hadn’t lost them – she took them with her (along with our laser tag set!). What I thought was the ending of our time together is the beginning of her new adventure. I can only imagine the trouble she’ll be getting into, the cook-offs, the campus-wide laser tag zombie apocalypse wars. But only after she’s finished her homework, of course.

Endings are still vague, mysterious alleys promising a something beyond the darkness we’ll never see. And the apartment still feels different. But I realize now I’ve been preparing Alexis her whole life to go out there and conquer the world (even if she takes the super villain route.). And this trepidation and unease about “The End?” Well, that compels me to keep writing. Nikki Heat still has a lot more adventures before she finds herself down that alley.