I would put the story on the backburner. Hell, I'd dump the contents and wash the pot. I would rewrite it over and over. I would push it aside and work on something new, some fresh story or other, while it sat looking at me, waiting. It knew I would come back to it.
But, I'm about to finish it now. Four more chapters, all of which I know exactly how to write. Knowing where to end was never a problem for me...it was always where to start, and how, that tied my fingers in knots, that gave me doubt.
Here's to the demise of the dustbunnies! Here's to the home stretch!