There wasn’t one big, dramatic moment that made me realize I needed to leave.
No single event I can point to and say, that’s when everything changed.
It was the small things.
The things that didn’t happen.
The missed holidays.
The quiet dinners with no real conversation.
The absence of deeper connection—the kind that makes you feel seen and heard.
It was the lack of the little things that, to me, mean everything.
The small, personal touches.
The effort.
The presence.
The feeling that someone actually cares.
And over time… that absence becomes loud.
I know how this will look from the outside.
Like I’m the one who left “for no reason.”
Like I’m the one who gave up on something that wasn’t broken.
But that’s not the truth.
And I’m starting to understand that believing I need a “big enough” reason… is part of the problem.
A lack of connection is a reason.
Feeling unseen is a reason.
Living side by side without actually sharing a life… is a reason.
Sometimes people grow.
And sometimes… they don’t grow in the same direction.
Or maybe they stop growing together entirely.
At least, that’s what my therapist tells me.
The part I still struggle with is the guilt.
Does he even see that there’s a problem?
Is he really comfortable living like this?
Does he believe this is what love is supposed to feel like?
I don’t know those answers.
And maybe I never will.
But I do know this:
For the better part of the last two years… I’ve been alone.
Even when he’s here, I’m still alone.
So I’ve started doing something different.
I’m trying to rebuild pieces of my life that I let go of.
Hobbies that once mattered to me.
Friendships I lost along the way.
Putting myself in social situations that still give me anxiety—but going anyway.
It’s uncomfortable.
But it also feels like something I need.
Because I deserve better.
And if I’m being honest…
So does he.
Even if he doesn’t see that something is wrong…
this isn’t a partnership.
And I don’t think either of us should spend the rest of our lives pretending that it is.
After The Fog 
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