number one zero

I've lost it, it's gone and I know I can't get it back.
There on my finger I wore it for so long, and now that I've lost it, I know she's gone. I wish I could find it again, I wish I could find her again. And just like I know where I could find it, I know where I could find her. But then, what's the point of killing yourself more than you need to. The fires in the hottest parts of hell couldn't hurt more than this, and to wear it again would only remind me and hurt me every day. But what if I don't want to forget. What if I'd rather be known for my crazy optimism. Should I be her #1 zero and keep her in the corner of my eye? Do I want to fall asleep each night, wanting to cry, crying not for what I've lost, but for what I've found.

Even given the best of circumstances, I know I could never have her. But it's the fact that I'll never have the chance to tell her. She'll never truly know, never, that I do love her, for what reason I can hardly explain to myself.