It’s been tough lately. My husband, David, has been distant, and our marriage feels like it’s hanging by a thread. I can’t remember the last time he complimented me or even noticed when I made an effort. I used to put so much care into how I looked, hoping he’d see me—truly see me. But now, it’s like we’re just going through the motions, two strangers sharing the same space but never really connecting.

Every morning, I get up, put on a nice outfit, and try to make things feel normal. I prepare his favorite breakfast, hoping it might spark something, a flicker of recognition or appreciation. But David barely looks up from his phone or the newspaper. He’ll say “thanks” without looking me in the eye, and that’s about it. It’s left me feeling invisible, like I don’t matter.

I try to remember the man he was when we first met, how he used to light up when I walked into the room. He made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world back then. Now, I’m lucky if he even notices when I change my hair or wear something new. The silence between us has grown, not in loud arguments but in the quiet, cold space that feels even more painful. We don’t talk about what’s really going on, and maybe that’s what scares me the most. It’s as if we’re pretending nothing’s wrong, but the distance between us grows wider each day.

I’ve thought about confronting him, asking him what’s wrong, if there’s something I’ve done, or if he’s unhappy. But part of me fears the answer. What if it’s me? What if he’s fallen out of love and doesn’t know how to tell me? Or worse, what if he’s found someone else, someone who makes him feel alive again? I push those thoughts away, but they linger in the back of my mind, adding to the heavy loneliness I feel even when we’re in the same room.

It’s hard to feel this way—unseen, unheard. I want to feel desired, appreciated, and loved again, but I’m afraid we’ve lost that somewhere along the way. The truth is, I miss him. I miss us. But I don’t know if he misses me too, or if he’s even noticed that we’ve drifted apart.

Every night, as we lay in bed, I wonder if this is how it ends, not with a bang but with the quiet erosion of everything we once were. I still love David, but I don’t know if that’s enough to save us. I just wish he would see me again, the way he used to.