Lately, my husband has felt like a stranger to me. The warmth that once filled our home seems to have faded, replaced by silence and distance. He used to greet me with a smile, ask about my day, and hold me close just because he wanted to. Now, he barely looks up when I walk into the room. Conversations have become short and mechanical—more about logistics than connection.

At first, I thought maybe he was just tired or stressed, so I gave him space. I told myself it was just a phase, that he would come back to me like he always did. But the more I tried to be patient, the more I started feeling invisible. Nights that used to be filled with laughter and closeness now feel cold and lonely. I lie awake wondering what changed, replaying moments in my mind, searching for something I did wrong.

Is it me? Am I no longer attractive to him? Have I become boring, predictable, easy to ignore? I try to push these thoughts away, but they creep in when I least expect them. I want to talk to him about it, to ask him what’s really going on, but I’m afraid of the answer.

I don’t know what to do. Should I confront him? Should I wait and hope things get better? Or am I holding on to something that’s already slipping away? The uncertainty is painful, and I don’t know how to fix what’s broken.