I once believed that marriage would mean togetherness — that I’d finally have a hand to hold through the highs and lows of life, someone who would listen to my stories, share his thoughts, and make the ordinary moments feel special. But instead, I found myself surrounded by silence. I thought marriage meant having a partner. Yet, I feel like I live beside a stranger. Our house is filled with walls, not warmth. He walks beside me, but our hearts are miles apart. I laugh alone, eat alone, cry alone — while he gives his time and attention to others who don’t carry his name, who don’t share his home. There’s a kind of loneliness that comes from being alone, but there’s a deeper kind that comes from being unseen by the person who promised to see you forever. It’s the loneliness of watching him look at his phone when you’re right there, of speaking softly only to be met with silence, of realizing that love has turned into routine and warmth into distance. I used to blame myself — mayb...