Lately, things have been rough between David and me. The energy that once filled our home has dimmed, replaced by a quiet tension that neither of us seems willing to address. I can’t pinpoint exactly when it started—maybe it was a gradual shift, the accumulation of small silences and missed moments—but it’s clear now that there’s a growing distance between us. He comes home from work, we exchange a few polite words, and then he immerses himself in his phone or TV. It’s as if we’re strangers sharing the same space, going through the motions without truly seeing each other.

I’ve tried to bridge the gap, making an effort to rekindle the spark that once brought us together. I wear his favorite perfume, cook the meals he used to compliment, and put extra thought into my appearance, hoping he might notice, say something, anything. But his gaze passes over me, distant and distracted, as if I’m just part of the background. I can’t remember the last time he said I looked nice or thanked me for the little things I do every day. It’s heartbreaking to realize that I don’t feel like a priority in his life anymore, like I’m slowly fading from his view.

What hurts most is the loneliness that’s settled between us. I miss the days when he would pull me close, share his thoughts, or make me laugh with his silly jokes. Now, it’s like we’re leading separate lives, moving along parallel paths that never meet. I find myself wondering where we went wrong and whether there’s still a way to bring us back to each other. This feeling of being unseen and unappreciated has left me questioning what our marriage truly means and whether there’s a way to rebuild the connection that feels so painfully lost.