Lately, I’ve felt like a ghost in my own home. My husband has been so distant, and no matter what I do, I can’t seem to reach him. At first, I brushed it off, telling myself that maybe he was just tired or preoccupied with work. But as time went on, his distance became more than just a passing phase—it became the new reality.

We used to talk for hours about everything and nothing, laughing at inside jokes only we understood. Now, our conversations are reduced to necessities—what’s for dinner, who’s picking up the groceries, when the bills are due. The warmth in his voice is gone, replaced by indifference. When I look at him, he seems lost in his own world, a world where I no longer exist.

I’ve tried to get his attention, to bring back the connection we once had. I ask him about his day, but his answers are short and uninterested. I reach for his hand, but he barely notices. The space between us is growing, and I don’t know how to close it.

I lie awake at night, wondering if he even loves me anymore. If I disappeared, would he even miss me? I don’t know if I should fight harder or if I should accept that I no longer matter to him. But the thought of losing him, of losing us, is breaking me. And the worst part is—I don’t know how to fix it.