Melina and Henry came down the stairs one last time. They each had a box in their hands. 'Tataaa, they're the last ones,' they both cheered. They were the last to be squeezed into the removal van and the doors were slammed shut with a clatter. Now we were ready to go. My twins, 19 years old, on their way to university in Frankfurt, ready for a life of their own. With mixed feelings, I waved after them until the car turned the corner. I was proud of them for setting off into the big wide world with confidence, sad that they were leaving me and happy that I finally had some peace and quiet. No more noise, no more stress, no more complaining, no more arguing.

And finally Bernd and I had time for each other again. I was looking forward to that. However, Bernd wasn't there at the moment. The togetherness had to wait until around 7 pm. Then he came home from work - just in time for dinner. That day too. When he opened the door, he called out 'hello' - as usual. Only this time, only I answered. We sat down at the dining table and I told him in detail about packing up the twins and how everything had gone. 'That's great,' said Bernd. 'And how was it at the office? 'Nothing special. Same as always.' And then we both fell silent.

Normally, it would have been the twins talking at the table. Now there was silence. For the first time in decades, I simply heard nothing. And I realized that I was feverishly searching for topics that I could bring up. But I couldn't think of anything. 'It's so quiet,' I said. 'Yes, that's true. It's nice for a change. Was Bernd always so quiet, I asked myself. Probably yes, I just hadn't noticed. The twins had drowned everything out. Bernd got up and turned on the TV. The news. I cleared up and sat down.

The next morning, the alarm clock rang as usual at 7am. The movements were fully automatic. I only set the table for two. Bernd came in at half past seven, downed the coffee, gave me a kiss on the cheek and said, as he did every morning: 'I have to go, see you tonight', and he was gone.

Everything was the same for Bernd, but everything was different for me.

I hadn't worked since the twins were born. Household chores and two lively children were enough for me, and the money Bernd earned as an engineer was enough for all of us. I was also involved in the school, was a parents' representative for years, organized parties, helped out everywhere and looked after the school library. I gave up these tasks at the end of the school year when the twins graduated. I missed them, but after so many years it was enough.

But the silence and emptiness were doubly noticeable for me: children gone, tasks gone. And my husband? The fact was that Bernd's usual everyday life continued. And I was terribly bored. Two things had to happen: Firstly, I had to do something for myself and find something new to do, and secondly, Bernd and I had to find the 'we' again. I bought movie tickets and put them next to his plate. 'Yes, fine,' he said. 'But I always play tennis with Jens on Fridays. I was disappointed. Couldn't he just skip something to do together? Surely that should be important to him too? He must have noticed that we didn't have anything in common at the moment. Or did he?

I took a survey of my friends who were in a similar situation. One had been working full-time for years and said it was great to finally have some peace and quiet in the evenings. The other told me that she and her husband had started dancing years ago - it was great to have a hobby together. The third told us about the various courses she was now taking. She had enough to do during the day and good conversations.

I remembered how nice it used to be between us. In the evening, I sat down on the sofa with him and switched off the TV.

I told him quite openly how I was feeling and that I was afraid for our marriage. Until then, we had shared the children. That was over now.'We were always a good team. And now we have nothing to say to each other. I don't want us to live side by side. That's terrible. We love each other, don't we?' -'Of course,' said Bernd. And seemed really surprised. He hadn't thought about it like that before. He hadn't even been aware of it because not much had changed for him. We looked back over the past few years. We hadn't actually done anything on our own. No romantic weekends without children, no dance classes, no movie nights. We were both stunned that we had jeopardized our marriage and togetherness like that.

I told him that I wanted to look for a new job and he understood. 'You seemed much more relaxed when you were twirling at school. He also promised to give up something and go out with me instead. We agreed that we should find a hobby together. And we made a solemn vow to talk to each other more. I think that's a good start to our life together."