Random write: Written in stone

But I think the overall problem of the situation is that I miss you to an extent so great even I cannot comprehend it.  I mean, if I have a fuller, better understanding of everything then perhaps I would be able to begin to describe my next course of action.  But for now, I must stay here in the confines of my lone room with my pessimistic music soothing my nerves like some sort of drug waiting for you to return to my emptiness.  Sometimes I wish I had a bit more to offer.  Now this doesn’t mean that this is the end.  Simply that even if it was for you, it wasn’t for me despite my pretending it was.  Pretending I am utterly over you.  But the truth is, I’m not.  I never was and probably wouldn’t be for quite awhile.  Even now I think about the nights so few I spent with you.  The times so precious I sat by you.  The conversations so orgasmic I swoon simply thinking of them.  And just how inevitable this all was; how it was so impossible not to happen.  The writing in stone was set and was just waiting to be played out.  And now that is has, what, May I ask, is next?  Please tell me there are more predictions to be laid out before me, because honestly, I cannot wait.