Every time we argue, my husband brings up my past relationships like they’re still happening today. It doesn’t matter what the argument is about—money, chores, even what to eat for dinner—somehow, it always circles back to the men who came before him.

At first, I thought it was just normal jealousy, something that would fade with time. But it didn’t. Instead, it grew, took root, and became an obsession. A shadow that followed us everywhere.

He fixates on details I barely remember—things I said in passing, names I mentioned years ago. “Did he kiss you like I do?” “Did you ever love me as much as you loved him?” His words aren’t just questions anymore. They’re accusations. A silent war he’s fighting alone.

I don’t recognize the man I married. The one who once held me like I was his whole world now holds me like he’s afraid to lose a battle I never asked him to fight.

How do you compete with ghosts? How do you convince someone that the past is just that—the past—when they refuse to believe it?

I chose him. I gave him my love, my commitment, my future. But instead of embracing it, he keeps reaching for a history that was never his to carry.

And now I wonder… is this love? Or is it something much darker?