Divine SPARIE

A Relationship That Never Had the Courage to Exist

There are some relationships you don’t talk about.

Not because they were small.
But because you don’t even know how to explain them.

It wasn’t a proper relationship.
It wasn’t clearly defined.
It wasn’t something you could introduce to the world and say,
“This is mine.”

And yet— It took everything from you.

That’s what I call Cupboard Love.

A love that exists…
but not in the open.

A love that is felt deeply…
but never given a rightful place.

I didn’t know I was in it.

No one ever does.

Because in the beginning, it doesn’t feel hidden.

It feels special.

You tell yourself:
“This is different.”
“This is deep.”
“This is something others wouldn’t understand.”

But slowly, things don’t add up.

You start noticing:

You are available… they are selective

You are honest… they are careful

You are present… they disappear

And instead of questioning it,
you adjust.

You adjust your expectations.
You adjust your timing.
You adjust your voice.

Because you don’t want to lose it.

Even though deep down,
you already know—

You don’t fully have it.

That’s the most dangerous part of Cupboard Love.

You stay…
not because it’s right,
but because you are emotionally invested.

You wait for clarity.

You wait for commitment.

You wait for the moment where everything becomes real.

But it never comes.

And instead, something else happens.

You start losing yourself.

Not dramatically.

Not in a way the world can see.

But in small, silent ways.

You stop asking questions.
You stop expressing pain.
You stop expecting consistency.

Because every time you come close to truth,
you feel the risk—

That everything might collapse.

So you choose silence.

And silence slowly becomes your role.

I remember moments…

Not big ones.

Small ones.

Waiting for a message that didn’t come.
Re-reading conversations to find meaning.
Feeling relief when they showed up…
as if absence was normal.

Relief.

Not peace.

And that’s when I realized—

This is not love.

This is survival inside confusion.

But still… I didn’t leave.

Because leaving something undefined
is harder than leaving something broken.

There is no closure.
No final conversation.
No clear ending.

Just a slow awareness.

A realization that grows inside you
until you can’t ignore it anymore.

That realization is painful.

Because it doesn’t just expose them—

It exposes you.

It shows you:

Where you ignored your own truth

Where you accepted less than clarity

Where you stayed, even when you felt it wasn’t right

And for a moment, you feel anger.

At them.

At yourself.

At everything.

But if you stay long enough in that awareness…

Something changes.

The anger fades.

And clarity takes its place.

You begin to understand:

You didn’t love wrong.

You just loved where truth wasn’t allowed.

And that’s not your failure.

That’s your awakening.

Because now you see something clearly:

Love should not need hiding.
Love should not feel like uncertainty.
Love should not make you question your place.

And most importantly—

Love should not make you disappear.

That’s what Cupboard Love does.

It doesn’t just hide the relationship.

It hides you.

Your voice.
Your needs.
Your presence.

Until one day…

you decide to come out of that cupboard.

Not with drama.

Not with revenge.

But with clarity.

You stop explaining.
You stop waiting.
You stop hoping.

And you choose something different.

You choose yourself.

Not as a reaction.

But as a return.

And that’s when everything shifts.

Because once you experience clarity—

you cannot go back to confusion.

So no…

I didn’t forget Cupboard Love.

I remember it.

Not as something I lost.

But as a lesson I paid for with my silence.

But as something that showed me what I will never accept again.

And maybe that’s the real purpose of it.

Not to stay.

Not to continue.

But to wake you up.

So next time…

I won’t choose something hidden.

I will choose something that can stand in the light.

And if it cannot stand in the light—

It will not stand in my life.