For years, my marriage looked ordinary to everyone else. We had the house, the routines, the shared responsibilities. But inside, it felt hollow. I was lonely in a way that’s hard to explain. We barely talked about anything real. Touch and affection just faded away. Whenever I tried to share what I was feeling, it was brushed aside like it didn’t matter. I told myself this must be normal—that staying quiet and pushing through was what love looked like.
I kept trying to fix things. I became more patient, more forgiving, always adjusting myself. I figured if I tried harder, something would change. Most days I blamed myself, thinking I wasn’t supportive enough or loving enough. I swallowed my hurt to keep the peace. I’d smile in front of friends and family, then cry alone at night. The constant neglect wore me down. I stopped feeling seen or wanted. Simple things—like a kind word or a check-in—never happened.
I’d watch other couples laugh and talk openly and wonder what was wrong with me. No one knew how bad it was because I never said anything. I thought loyalty meant carrying it silently. Then one day he left. No real explanation, no conversation. Just gone. The shock was overwhelming. I kept replaying everything, searching for answers that never came. The rejection hurt more than I can describe. It wasn’t only losing a partner—it was losing the future I’d imagined and part of who I was. Read more https://drbokko.com/?p=35863
