It’s 2 AM and I can’t sleep. Soft lullabies fill the gaps between my thoughts, but I keep thinking of the ones I love. They keep me awake.

I remember a conversation with a professor of mine who told me he could never sleep at night. He says this to me as we clear the tables after a charity dinner in honor of his loved one. Ever since she passed, he can’t sleep at night. He takes these pills, swallows them with his 3 A.M. restless thoughts, as he grades student papers or reads the latest publishings on the state of our world.

I’ve never met a man so able at hiding his pain, though I’ve often heard men are good at that.