Have you ever been a combination of bored, lonely, and sad really late at night? You realize that you're bored because you can't find anything to do. You find yourself lonely because no one is around to help you stop being bored. Both of these things end up making you very sad. Sleep is an option, in fact, it would probably be best to just sleep the feelings off, it would be healthier too. But, you keep tinkering with the unexciting thing you've been doing all night. There is nothing entertaining about what you are doing, yet you still keep hoping. Your hope is that if you continue on long enough, if you stay up late enough, something will happen to break your bored mood,  erase your lonely feelings, and displace your sadness. It's not really likely to happen, but something compels you to just stay up a little later. Something in your mind refuses to let you turn in, pack up your things for the night, and try again tomorrow. There is a mad, delusional hope which drives you to wait and see, to beat the odds. But it ends up getting more and more late. Nothing ever happens, of course nothing happens. Soon you notice a sign, showing you just how long you've stayed up. Perhaps the dishwasher, timed to go off in the wee hours of the morning, begins to churn. Maybe birds begin to chatter outside your window. The night sky, you might notice is no longer cloaked in deep, deep black, but has changed it's garb to a gentle blue-grey. It's the subtle things, the ticking of a clock, the whisper of utter silence, encroaching shadows in the corners of your eyes. Something makes you realize that your hope was false all along. That indeed, you stayed up and strove to wait for nothing, because nothing was ever going to come. As this feeling overcomes you, your bored thoughts melt into bleak uninterest, your loneliness turns to bitter remorse, and your sadness becomes something closer to the feeling of being tired. So you finally give in. You hold up your hands in defeat and pull up the covers and find sleep a merciful, empty, solace.