In the dark and silent night, you sit on the edge of our bed, gazing into the empty room adorned with unseen shadows. Adam, your husband, lies on the other side of the bed with a vacant stare directed at the ceiling. Over the past few months, you've felt the distance between you grow, like an insurmountable chasm. Despite sharing the same bed, it feels like you're in different worlds.

As you observe Adam, you feel empty and powerless. How can you approach your husband who seems to be drifting further from you every day? How can you reach his heart locked away by bitter memories of the past?

Unconsciously, you approach Adam, seeking answers from his vacant gaze. "Adam," you whisper, your soft voice breaking into the silence of the night, "What's happening to you? Are you okay?"

Adam turns his face towards you, his deep brown eyes filled with unspoken darkness. "I've never been okay," he murmurs with a fragile voice. "I'm trapped in a war that ended long ago, and I don't know how to get out."

Adam's words pierce your heart like a sharp knife. You feel his hand trembling as you try to grasp it. "You're not alone, Adam. I'm here for you, always," you say with a voice full of pain.

Adam looks at you with eyes filled with suppressed tears. "But how can you be here for me if I myself don't know how to be here for myself?" he exhales, his voice shattered by the weight of indescribable emotional burden.