Recently, my relationship with my husband, Tom, has been slowly unraveling. It started off small—little things that I brushed off, thinking it was just a phase. But now, it feels like a constant undercurrent of distance that’s growing harder to ignore. He’s been distant, barely looking up from his phone when I talk, and the silence between us has become unbearable. I can’t remember the last time he made me feel special or even noticed the effort I put into things for him. The compliments that used to come so naturally are gone, replaced by empty gestures or none at all.
I’ve been putting in the effort to look good for him, to keep the spark alive in ways I know he used to appreciate. I’ll dress up, wear that dress he used to love, or take the time to cook his favorite meals, hoping that maybe, this time, it will make a difference. I make sure our home is warm, inviting, and filled with the little touches that used to make it our sanctuary. But despite everything I do, it’s as though none of it registers with him. He’s always distracted, always preoccupied with something else. It’s like he’s here physically, but emotionally, he’s a million miles away.
I can’t help but feel like I’m just going through the motions, existing in a marriage that’s becoming increasingly lonely. There was a time when he would call me just to check in, or we would share long conversations about everything and nothing. But now, the only time we talk is when it’s about logistics—what needs to be done, where we need to be, and when we have to do it. I’ve tried to bring up how I’m feeling, but he just brushes it off, saying he’s stressed or tired. But I’m tired too. I’m tired of being the only one trying, of feeling like I’m invisible in my own marriage.
It’s a strange kind of loneliness, one that cuts deeper because he’s still here. He’s still living under the same roof, sharing the same space, but it’s like we’re two strangers coexisting rather than partners in a relationship. I miss the connection we once had, the affection, the intimacy. I miss the little moments that used to make our life together feel real, meaningful. Now, everything feels distant and mechanical. I’m not sure how we got here or how to fix it. I keep hoping that something will change, that he’ll notice me again, but as each day passes, I’m starting to wonder if I’m fighting a battle I can’t win.
It’s heartbreaking to realize that the person I’m married to is no longer the person I thought I knew so well. It’s like we’re both stuck in a routine, too afraid to address the elephant in the room, too resigned to break the silence. And as much as I try to hold on, I feel like I’m slipping away, unable to get him to see me, to recognize that I need him—need us—to find our way back. But I don’t know if he’s willing to try.
