For years, I was the one bringing it up. We needed more intimacy. I missed feeling wanted. Could we talk about what was happening between us?
My wife usually understood what I meant. Sometimes she said, “You’re right, but this is all I can give.” Other times, she simply didn’t feel like it. Occasionally, we would agree to work on things. A few days later, our usual life would resume.
We’ve been together almost 15 years and married for seven. I’m 38; she’s 34. For the past five years, we’ve had sex perhaps six or seven times a year, and those occasions generally haven’t been especially enjoyable. I’ve raised the subject more times than I can count.
The rest of our relationship is good, which makes this difficult to explain. We support each other. We share responsibilities. We get along. I love her, and I know she loves me. She’s my closest friend, and I value the life we’ve built.
But over the last year or two, I’ve noticed that my attraction has started fading. After so much time wanting something that rarely happened, I don’t seem to reach for it in the same way anymore.
Now she’s noticing the distance. She asks for more hugs, more kisses, more kind words. Those are ordinary, loving things to want from a husband. I’m struggling to give them naturally, and that’s hard to admit.
I’m not withholding affection to punish her. I feel worn out. The person I used to be in this relationship—the one always hoping we might find our way back to each other—feels harder to reach.
I don’t want her to have sex she doesn’t want. I want shared desire, the kind where neither person has to talk the other into being there.
Leaving after nearly 15 years feels unimaginable. Continuing like this for the rest of my life feels just as difficult.
I still love my wife. What I can’t tell is whether desire can return after this much disappointment, or whether losing my own longing is how the end begins.
