I feel like I’m just existing in my marriage—my husband doesn’t seem interested in me anymore, and it’s breaking me inside. We share the same house, the same bed, but it feels like we’re living separate lives. I wake up next to him, yet somehow, I feel completely alone.

Mornings used to start with warmth—a soft touch on my back, a sleepy “good morning.” Now, it’s just the sound of an alarm, followed by silence. He gets up, gets ready, and leaves without a second glance. I try to remind myself that people get busy, that routine dulls excitement, but deep down, I know it’s more than that.

I dress up sometimes, hoping he’ll notice. Hoping he’ll look at me the way he used to, with admiration, with desire. But his eyes don’t linger on me anymore. I talk to him, but his responses are short, as if he’s just waiting for the conversation to end.

I don’t know when we stopped being partners and became just two people coexisting. The loneliness is unbearable. I miss the way he used to hold me, the way he’d listen when I spoke, as if every word mattered. Now, I wonder if I matter at all.

Every night, I lie beside him, wanting to reach out, to ask him what went wrong. But fear keeps me frozen. Fear that he has already let go. Fear that I’m the only one still holding on.