Some people do not leave faith through argument or scandal. They drift. Prayer becomes motion without warmth. Recitation feels flat. The interior sense of nearness that once came easily recedes. When this happens, the temptation is to treat the loss of feeling as evidence that the object of faith was imaginary all along.
That conclusion ignores how human life actually works. Love, grief, purpose, beauty, and moral conviction all pass through seasons of felt intensity and felt absence. Religion is no exception. The fading of presence tells you something about your current spiritual condition. It does not by itself settle what is real.
The Islamic tradition expects fluctuation. It calls for practice, repentance, remembrance, and company that restores orientation. God remains real whether felt intensely, dimly, or through a long dry season. The central question becomes deeper than mood: is there in fact a Lord to whom your life belongs? If the answer is yes, then dryness is a chapter to be worked through, not a final verdict on reality.