I’m married, but my husband seems distant lately. I feel invisible, like a shadow moving through our home, present but unnoticed. Once, we used to share everything—our thoughts, our dreams, even the small, insignificant details of our day. Now, silence fills the spaces where laughter used to live.

I try to reach him, but it’s like grasping at smoke. Conversations are short, his eyes don’t linger on me the way they used to, and when we sit together, I can feel the miles stretching between us, even though we’re only inches apart. I tell myself it’s just a phase, that maybe he’s stressed, tired, or lost in his own thoughts. But how long can I keep making excuses?

I find myself overanalyzing everything—what I said, what I wore, whether I should have been more affectionate or given him more space. I wonder if I did something wrong, or worse, if he simply stopped seeing me the way he once did.

I miss the way he used to look at me like I was the most beautiful thing in the world. I miss the way his touch reassured me. I miss us. But I don’t know how to bring us back to where we were.

I want to fight for us, but I don’t know if I’m the only one still holding on. And that thought—that fear—is what truly breaks my heart.