Blessed to be the one, cursed to be none.
Blessed to be the one, cursed to be none.
You know how crazy it is … To be the one but to be none? To be nothing? Here goes a peek into a small side of me… No one understands. Just because you’re incapable of commitment, doesn’t mean you’re incapable of love.
Blessed to be the one, cursed to be none.
The night is cold, but it’s always colder when you’re alone. It’s a sharp contrast to the warmth of the love I’ve given, the love I’ve shared, but never held onto. A thousand faces flash before me—smiles, tears, moments that could have been forever but weren’t. I am a lover in a world where love is a game with rules I refuse to follow. Not because I want to, but because I must.
Blessed to be the one, cursed to be none.
It was the same with her, the one who might have been different if things weren’t the way they were. I let her in more than I should have, more than I’ve ever let anyone in.
Blessed to be the one, cursed to be none.
From the beginning, I was honest—about who I am, about what I could give. I told her I was capable of love, but not of staying. She listened, nodded, and said she understood. She said she was ready for a try, knowing the risks.
Blessed to be the one, cursed to be none.
We were adults, she said, and if hearts were broken, we’d deal with it. We’d remain friends.
Blessed to be the one, cursed to be none.
But it’s never that simple, is it?
Blessed to be the one, cursed to be none.
It starts with the thrill of connection. The first touch, the first glance, the first shared laugh. It’s easy to believe in the illusion that this time, it might be different. Every time I meet someone new, I tell myself that perhaps this will be the one who breaks the pattern.
Blessed to be the one, cursed to be none.
I deny the truth that’s buried deep within me—the truth that I am incapable of staying. The truth that while I can make someone fall in love, I can never give them the commitment they deserve.
Blessed to be the one, cursed to be none.
With her, it was no different. I let myself get lost in the excitement of it all. The way she looked at me, the way she spoke—there was something in her eyes that made me want to believe.
Blessed to be the one, cursed to be none.
So, I convinced myself that maybe, just maybe, I could be the man she wanted me to be. I clung to the hope that I could change, that I could be enough.
1. Blessed to be the one, cursed to be none.
We laughed together, shared our deepest fears and wildest dreams. She fell for me, just as I knew she would, and I let myself fall for her too, in my own way. But deep down, I knew. I knew this couldn’t last. Still, I pretended—denied the inevitable. After all, denial is easier than facing the truth.