April 21, 2025

By Jessica Martin

It’s hard to admit this, even to myself. I’m scared of him now. I never thought I would say those words. I never imagined I’d feel this way about someone I promised to love forever. But here I am, afraid to go home, afraid to be alone with him.

It started slowly, just little things that didn’t seem too out of the ordinary at first. A sharp tone when he was frustrated. The silent treatment when things didn’t go his way. But then it changed. I could feel it in the way he looked at me, in the way he spoke to me. Something inside him snapped, and it’s been unraveling ever since.

The first time I realized something was wrong was a few years ago. I remember looking at him across the table, and he wasn’t the same person. The warmth, the patience, the kindness—it was all gone. In its place was a coldness I couldn’t understand. He started snapping at me over things that didn’t matter, and the way he treated the kids was worse. It was like he didn’t care anymore, like he was a stranger in my own home.

I don’t know what happened to him, but it’s only gotten worse. I can see the rage building in him now, like it’s always there, simmering just beneath the surface. Sometimes, I’m afraid to even speak. What if I say the wrong thing? What if it sets him off? I’m walking on eggshells, afraid to trigger the storm that’s brewing inside him.

I don’t know how we got here. I wish I could go back to before it all changed. I want to remember the man I married—the one who held my hand with love in his eyes, the one who made me laugh until my stomach hurt. But that man feels like a distant memory now. The man I have in front of me is someone I don’t recognize, and I don’t know how to get back to who we used to be.

I’m afraid to tell anyone. I’m not ready to leave, not yet. I’m still holding on to the hope that things will get better, that this is just a phase. But deep down, I know it’s not. I know things are getting worse, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep pretending that everything is fine.

I keep hoping that tomorrow will be different, that he’ll wake up and be the man I fell in love with again. But each day feels heavier. Each day I see him slip further away from me, and I’m not sure how much longer I can live in this fear.

But I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know how to leave without everything falling apart, without breaking my family. So I stay, scared but still holding on, hoping for something that may never come back.