This is not the pause at the end of the season, the exhale that comes when everything is over. It is the breath taken while standing in the doorway, hands finally still, before stepping back into the noise and movement of what is to come. It is the quiet recognition that nothing more can be added without asking something back in return, and that continuing to press forward will not necessarily make what follows more meaningful—only more exhausting.

People love to toss out the phrase, “you knew what you signed up for.” But you and I both know — that isn’t true. There was no fine print in our vows outlining deployments, distance, or the slow erosion of plans we once thought were ours to create. We didn’t sign a contract of sacrifice. We said yes to a person, not to the unspoken terms that came bundled with their service. What followed has often felt less like a choice and more like learning to juggle far too many things at once — each with its own weight and consequence.