When One Person Gives Up in a Relationship

As I sat down to write this, I didn’t plan to be emotional.

But somewhere along the way, I realized that even the strongest couples don’t stay the same. And if I am being honest, mine changed too.

In the beginning, every couple fights, argues, cries, even tries to control but we always run back to each other, say sorry first, patch things up at any cost, because losing the person feels far more terrifying.

I remember those days.

If he didn’t talk to me for ten minutes, my heart would pain.

If we fought at night, I would not sleep.

Not even one single night passed without patching up each other.

And now?

Now, after a decade… when we argue, I don’t rush back to patch up.

I withdraw. 

Because, I want silence, peace and space.

And that scares me.

Relationships almost follow a strange pattern.

In the beginning, you spend all your time together.

Then children come. Responsibilities grow. Careers expand.

The middle years almost 30 to 45 years become survival mode.

You are not lovers.

You are not even best friends sometimes.

You are no longer lovers dreaming together.

you are just two exhausted souls managing a house and quietly ticking the boxes of being “good parents".

They tell you, “After 60, when the children are settled, you will have time again for just the two of you. Love blossoms again”

But what about the 28+ years in between?

Does love dry out there?

Or do we just stop watering it?

Honestly… I don’t know.

Now we fight less.

Not because we understand better.

But Arguing with him? Feels Waste of energy.😓

He thinks, “She will talk tomorrow… she has to.”

I think, “He will come back to me in a week… he has no choice.”

Now we patch things up not because we miss each other,

but because life forces us to talk.

Because,

we have Decisions to make.

Parents meetings to attend.

So we speak.

Not to heal. Not to reconnect. But to FUNCTION.

So somewhere in between responsibilities and routines, we stop choosing/loving each other and start taking each other for granted.

But moving away from a fight without resolving it is a big Red Flag.

Have you ever thought about how many unresolved emotions a person carries when you extend silence or unresolved emotions like that?

The Illusion of “I have Got Them”

At some point, both partners start thinking:

“I have got my wife.”

“I have got my husband.”

That’s when effort reduces.

It’s not space.

We stop trying to impress.

We stop trying to understand.

But here’s the truth, people evolve.

Think about your childhood best friend.

Is that person still your best friend today?

Maybe yes.

If yes, you are blessed.

But most of us our personality change.

After a crisis.

After loss.

After success.

After motherhood.

After failure.

A fun person becomes calm.

A calm person becomes guarded.

A soft heart becomes practical.

The man I met on day one is not the man today.

And I am not the same woman either.

But we are still tied to each other not because we are the same, but because marriage doesn’t allow easy exits like friendships do.

And sometimes that scares me.

When Love Changes Shape

There was a time I had a thousand packets of love.

Today?

I don’t have hatred.

But I have layers.

Mixed feelings.

Exhaustion.

Distance.

Maybe this is what emotional giving up looks like.

Not dramatic.

Not loud.

Just… quiet.

You stop expecting.

You stop chasing.

You stop fighting to be heard.

And that is more dangerous than anger.

The Funny (But Not So Funny) Twist

Let me end with something lighter. Remember the possessiveness in early love?

Before marriage, 

If another girl talked to him,  "war."

If he looked at some girl,  "mini heartbreak"

If some girl text hims, "World War III."

Now?

If a girl talks to him, I don’t burn anymore.

I laugh and I tease him.

And somewhere, I genuinely feel happy that there are still women who notice him.😉

I look at him and smile,

“Ah… so the charm hasn’t faded after all.”

But sometimes I wonder:

Did I lose that cute possessiveness?

Or did love just mature?

Or worse…

Did I stop caring the way I used to?

The Real Question

When a person gives up in a relationship, it doesn’t happen in one day.

It happens slowly.

When you stop resolving fights.

When you assume they will stay anyway.

When silence becomes normal.

When effort feels unnecessary.

Love doesn’t die loudly.

It dries quietly.

And maybe the real danger isn’t fighting too much in the beginning.

Maybe the real danger is not fighting at all later.

Because at least fighting means you still care enough to react.

Silence or not resolving it?

It means someone has already given up.

Two Chocolates, and that ORDER - I Can’t Forget

When my son called and asked for two chocolates, my first response wasn’t “okay.” It was a typical parent reaction.

“Why chocolates?” I continued, “You know chocolates are junk food. Why do you need them?”

There was a short pause. Then he said, “Amma, I am not going to eat. I am going to gift. One for my badminton master, and one for my Dance Master.”

That answer stopped me and I suddenly felt proud.

Grateful, even. I smiled, stopped my vehicle, and walked into a nearby shop to buy them.

And that’s where the moment changed.

Inside the shop, a little girl - around 7 years old stood near the counter.

In a calm, practiced voice, she said, “One cigarette, uncle. It’s for my appa.”

The shopkeeper didn’t question her. Since she asked for just one, he opened a fresh packet and handed her a single cigarette, loose, with no cover and it went straight into her tiny hand.

She held it between two fingers. That image cut deep.

Here I was, buying chocolates as a sign of respect and gratitude and right beside me, a child was carrying addiction home.

Her hands were too small for that responsibility. Too innocent for that habit.

I walked out with the chocolates, but my mind stayed inside that shop.

Did that parent justify it by saying, “She’s just delivering it.”

But if a child can confidently ask for a cigarette, what are we normalizing for them?

A child should carry books.

Toys. Chocolates. Dreams.

Not cigarettes.

Even now, that moment hasn’t left me.

So I want to ask every parent reading this:

Are you sending your child to buy cigarettes for you?

Are you unknowingly teaching them that this is normal?

Today, my son learned about gratitude and respect.

That little girl learned how to carry a cigarette.

Both lessons were taught in the same shop.

And that difference… still hurts.

Let’s protect their innocence, not just from big dangers, but from the small, everyday ones we overlook.