Staring into space

Second night in the row now, I am left at 1 a clock unable to do nothing except stare into space.

For I am tired - too tired to think or read, even to watch TV - but still unable to fall asleep.

D.-s death still hasn't set in. I feel it pushing on my chest though, hanging overhead, like a dark cloud, clearly there, lurking, but unwilling to release the hailstorm it contains.

And there is something else. Concerning M. But again, I just feel it, without yet being able to pin down the reasons or even the character of it's existence.

Part of me wants to put off dealing with both things. But that is just delaying the inevitable. Then again, I see no way of forcing the storm down myself, so I guess only time will tell.