You haven't left. That means something, even if you're not sure what anymore. You are still here, in the house, in the marriage, in the difficult middle of something that no longer looks like what you thought it would be, and the fact that you haven't gone is not nothing, even on the days it feels like it is.
But you have stopped believing. Not all at once, belief doesn't usually leave that way. It left gradually, in the space between attempts that didn't work and conversations that went nowhere and moments of hope that didn't hold. You didn't decide to stop believing. You just noticed one day that it was gone, that the thing you had been running on had quietly run out, and what remained was the shell of commitment without the fuel of hope underneath it.
This is one of the most isolating places a marriage can take a person. You can't explain it fully to people who love you, because they will either tell you to keep trying, which you have, or tell you it's okay to leave, which may not be what you need to hear either. The people who want to help tend to want resolution, and what you are living in is the absence of it. You are not at the end. You are not at a new beginning. You are at the threshold, and thresholds are their own particular kind of hard. If the belief ran out after a long season of being the only one trying, the prayer for when only one of you is trying names what that sustained effort costs.
The hope you've lost was real while you had it. The effort you made was genuine. The love that brought you to this marriage and kept you in it through hard seasons was not a mistake, and its exhaustion now is not a verdict on its authenticity then. Love can be real and still reach its limits. Faith can be genuine and still run dry. Neither of those things makes you a failure.
If you need somewhere to bring this, not to be told what to decide, but to set down the weight of it for a moment, you can request a prayer for your marriage. Bring the belief you have left, however small, or bring the absence of it. Both are honest. Both are welcome.
There is a question in scripture that gets asked at the moment when something appears completely beyond recovery, is anything too hard? The question isn't rhetorical comfort. It is asked in a specific context of genuine impossibility, where the human assessment of the situation was entirely reasonable and the divine response was entirely unexpected. That doesn't mean every marriage is saved. It doesn't promise a particular outcome. But it does mean that the point at which human hope runs out is not necessarily the point at which all possibility ends. Those are not always the same threshold.
Surrender here is not the decision to leave and it is not the decision to stay. It is something harder than either, the release of the outcome into hands larger than yours, the acknowledgment that you have reached the end of what your own will and effort can hold, the willingness to remain open to something you can no longer manufacture on your own. It is praying not for the marriage to be saved on your terms or ended on your terms, but for whatever is true and possible to become visible from where you are standing. What you are grieving, underneath the decision itself, is the future you believed this marriage would be, and that grief is real whether the marriage ends or continues. If that loss of a future is part of what you are carrying, the prayer for the loss of a dream that will never happen holds space for exactly that mourning.
You are allowed to be here. You are allowed to have run out of belief without having run out of love, or to have run out of both and still be standing at the threshold not knowing what to do next. You are allowed to bring God the honest state of things, not the version you think you should be feeling, but the actual version, with all its exhaustion and ambivalence and grief.
The threshold you are standing on is not outside God's reach. Neither is the marriage, whatever its outcome. Neither are you, tired, depleted, no longer sure you believe, and still, somehow, here.
Still here is not nothing. It is, in fact, where every honest prayer begins. The marriage prayers gathered here are for exactly this place, the threshold, before any decision has been made, where all that remains is honesty.